Dancing Life
by Pyro Symptoms Unleashed
Summary: A naive kiss meant to disgust Draco only gets Ginny into deeper trouble with love. Even if he's willing to give her his love, can she accept it without fear of desertion? How will they ever stay together? PG13, perhaps R. Bewaresome minor slash.
1. TwoStepping with Trouble

**Author's Note:** This is the first chapter (no, really) in my latest FanFic. (Sigh), yet another Draco/Ginny. (Squeals happily.) I'd really like to know what you think of it, and I thank those of you who contributed to the 60 reviews for Puffy Red Eyes. Wow. I am nearing the end of this story, so I won't be uploading but a few chapters at a time. This story is quite a bit longer than the last one. The entire story should be up in a few weeks.

** Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine except for Heather, Skye, Janet, the plot, and whatever else you may not remember from the books that I'm too lazy to find.

**Dancing Life **

**Chapter 1: Two-stepping with Trouble**

**

* * *

**

A slender red-head tapped her foot impatiently, glancing down a deserted hallway.

_Heather should be here be now._ Ginny Weasley thought, pacing the floor in front of a closed door.

It was Ginny's sixth year at Hogwarts, and this year was shaping up to be a very pleasant one indeed. The threat of Voldemort had been diminished greatly; some saying the evil dark lord had been incapacitated to the point of near non-existence. Through the combined intuition of the Aurors, the Order, and to a lesser extent, the Ministry of Magic, most of the Death Eaters had been captured and sent to Azkaban, including Lucius Malfoy.

This was reason enough for Ginny to celebrate for the next two decades. Lucius Malfoy had been a thorn in her father's side for as long as she could remember, and had nearly gotten her killed in her first year when he gave her an enchanted diary that had belonged to none other than the sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle; the boy who would grow up to become Lord Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy had been a prominent Death Eater, and rumored to be Voldemort's right hand man.

And now he was in Azkaban, rotting away in some filthy cell. And his prat, ferret of a son no longer marched around Hogwarts as if he owned it. Draco Malfoy was still venomous and sharp, but he had mellowed out significantly after his father's downfall. He barely ever bothered Ginny or her friends anymore, though it was true that he could never pass the opportunity to show up Harry.

Ginny sighed regretfully. Harry Potter had been her girlish crush since her first year at Hogwarts. How can you not ogle over someone who saved your life, and who was besides, too good-looking to be allowed.

But after following him around for six years and hanging onto every word he said to her, treasuring them like gems, she had finally given up. She was tired of worrying over how she looked when Harry never saw her as anything other than a little sister. She was tired of going out of her way to spend time with him. She was tired of being ignored.

It wasn't that she wasn't interested in boys. No, she was very much interested in the opposite sex, and vice-versa. She'd dated Colin Creevey and Seamus Finnegan alternately at the beginning of the last school year, but both had been innocent fun. Just flings with good friends.

Ginny stared down the empty hallway. Her friend, Heather Rambinski was supposed to be meeting her for the introduction of a new course that was being offered on weekends to fourth years and above with decent passing grades.

It was a dancing class.

Not ballet or street dancing, or Ginny would have downright refused Heather's pleas to join her. It was a serious class that dealt with dance history, different cultural dances, and a variety of styles and how to dance them. The course included a small party after Christmas, which would present the rest of the school with some practiced dances, including an interpretive style.

Heather had glanced at Ginny during her debate to get her friend to go with her. "C'mon Gin, look at you. You're the artistic type, you'll love this." She'd been right. With her twin brothers opening up their joke shop, Ginny had found they sent her monthly allowances, understanding her love for pretty, colorful clothes, which her previous wardrobe had lacked greatly.

Ginny looked down at her outfit today and smiled. Normally she simply wore her school robes, but seeing as it was Saturday, and a lovely, expressive morning, she decided to wear clothes that reflected her exultant mood.

She was wearing a long, flowing mint green skirt with a pattern of maroon and dark green roses splayed across it. She loved the way it swirled around her legs, making her feel elegant and graceful. Her top was a simple green sweater, which contrasted brilliantly with her flaming red hair, which she'd cut short over the summer, much to her mother's protests.

It now wisped out just below her ears, several strands coming down to frame her face, giving her (along with her pointed nose, faint freckles, creamy skin, and angular chin) a very pixy-like look. In fact her entire body gave her that image. She was of average height, with irregular, jagged features.

She wasn't beautiful or pretty, but something about her captured the attention of others and held it. She had fascinating features, especially her eyes, which could go either amber or a nice coffee color. They were, as she was, expressive. They were wide and sparkling with fair lashes; incredibly sharp and perceptive.

Her body was still too slender, but she was beginning to mature, physically at least; she was already a developed young adult mentally. She was really, though, just a slip of a girl.

But her personality and dress completely defied her looks. While her appearance suggested weak delicacy, her spirit was strong and defiant. She had a whip-like tongue, razor sharp, with snide comments perpetually balanced on the end, ready to lash out if she ever felt the need.

Her humor was dry and subtle, and she always dressed to defy the way the rest of the girls in school did. The fact was, after finally giving up her hopeless chase for Harry, she really didn't care much about what people thought of her. Most of the Gryffindors (her brother Ron and his friends included) was shocked to find that she was a born rebel, but only in the sense that she didn't allow herself to be dragged along with the crowd. Instead, she put her foot down and dressed, talked, and acted whatever way she felt most comfortable in.

She tapped her foot again, glancing down the hallway, waiting for her friend to show up. Heather Rambinski was a Gryffindor a year younger than Ginny, but still incredibly sensible and practical. She also stood up against the grain, but not as vividly as Ginny.

Heather was less striking than Ginny was. She was probably better classified as pretty, though in a more exotic way; she was immensely atypical from the other simpering, bubbling blondes in the school.

She had long, waist-length black hair, starkly set against smooth, ebony skin, which covered her entire, shapely body. Her wide eyes were such a dark shade of blue that they appeared black, hemmed in by ridiculously thick eyelashes. She moved gracefully and talked smoothly and sophisticatedly, setting her apart from the other fifth years, whose vapid chatter never went any deeper than who was dating who.

She was adamantly opinionated about Muggles and purebloods and how they should get along better (coming from a Muggle home, it was no wonder). She loved discussing politics, though became utterly unapproachable when Cornelius Fudge's name was brought up. She was odd in nearly every way, but still surprisingly well-liked throughout the school, with a few friends in every house, save for Slytherin. Ginny was more solitary, and other than Heather, she didn't really have any true friends.

Ron, Harry and Hermione were great, but they preferred each other's company to Ginny's. Ginny had spent most of her fourth year lonely and depressed (save for the odd boy or two) when suddenly, it was like she just realized there was an incredibly potential friend in her own house: Gryffindor.

Despite the fact that Heather was a year younger, she and Ginny had bonded rather closely and quickly under severe circumstances, and were rarely split up except for classes. Heather loved Ginny's dark wit and Ginny appreciated the intelligent girl's firm grasp on the world.

Ginny shifted her bag on her shoulder and stole a glance at her watch. _No wonder she's not here. _Ginny thought. _I'm early._ She looked up just in time to see Heather gliding towards her, looking, as always, calm and composed.

She wore lots of bold, dark colors. Today she'd opted for a deep crimson sweater, which hugged her tightly against the cool weather and a pair of baggy black jeans. She smiled up at Ginny. "Didn't think you'd be eager to get here early." She rumbled smoothly.

Listening to her friend talk was one of the most soothing things possible. Ginny felt instantly at ease. She smiled back at the younger girl, who stood at near eye level.

"Fine, you got me interested. My curiosity peaked, so I had to come down here and check things out." She grinned wickedly. "Plus Ron was looking for a partner to practice Switching Spells with." Her older brother's problem with charms was notoriously well known throughout the Gryffindor common room.

Heather smirked again. "Well, we're a little early, but do you want to go ahead? Maybe we can get good seats and meet the instructor. I hope it's a guy." She added. Ginny rolled her eyes. Heather was sensible, but she was also a fifteen-year-old girl. Hormones overtook practicality.

They entered the small classroom. Desks had been hastily shoved against the walls, leaving a small, but workable area in the middle of the class. Standing to one side was a surprisingly young witch with short, but frighteningly blue hair.

Once you got over the initial shock of her intense hair, which was spiked in the back, she was rather attractive. She had a wide, smiling face and pleasant blue eyes. She smiled warmly at the girls, who seemed to be the only two in the class so far.

Striding forward, she extended a hand, with equally bright blue fingernails. "Professor Skyellamorendolus." She said, grasping each of the girls' hands and giving them a firm shake. "But you may call me 'Professor Skye', if you prefer." She added quickly, taking in their overwhelmed looks.

They smiled. Both liked this energetic, vibrant young woman with a personality to match her appearance. Ginny smiled. "Ginevra Weasley, but mostly everyone calls me Ginny."

Heather smiled too, a soft and satisfied smile. "Heather Rambinski, and I go by Heather." She confirmed silkily.

Skye nodded. "Well, if we're on a first name basis, you may call me Skye. Yeah, my parents named me Skye Skyellamorendolus. Still haven't forgiven them. But if I get to call you by your given name, you should be able to do the same. None of this teacher-student superiority nonsense. Fair is fair; equal is equal, and this…is dance class. Dancing Life." She spread her arms around her, looking thoroughly delighted.

Ginny and Heather grabbed seats closest to the teacher as more people started entering. This professor couldn't be more than a few years older than they were; and she was, there was no other descriptive word: cool!

Ten minutes later the room was nearing full, and the flow of people entering had ceased. There was a total of around twenty-five, thirty students, mostly sixth and seventh years, from all four of the houses.

Ginny's large amber-brown eyes opened wide when she saw Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini walk into the classroom. They were easily the two best-looking boys in the class, and Ginny knew her eyes weren't the only ones following the Slytherins to their seats in the back of the class.

As the door remained firmly shut, Professor Skye stepped up and clapped her hands once. One sharp, firm clap and the class was silent, waiting with eager anticipation. Ginny was amazed to find that so many people were interested.

Skye smiled at them. Smoothing her blue robes she introduced herself, insisting they call her by her first name.

"But, Professor," Lavendar Brown, a seventh year Gryffindor had questioned, raising her hand "All our other teachers have them call them by their surnames. It shows respect." She said softly.

Skye smiled kindly. "I appreciate that you want to show respect in my class. To do that, though, you don't need to call me by my last name. If you really want to denote respect, simply do as I ask you the best you can. And be yourself. I show you respect by treating you as an equal, using your first name, as you are all individuals and not merely students." She smiled again, and Lavendar smiled with her.

"Now, this class will meet every Saturday morning at eleven and every other Sunday morning at the same time. I expect you to come to class and give your best effort, and in return, I hope to show you all the wonderfully animated side of life that is dance."

She flipped open a text book and began to read from it. But, it certainly wasn't what was written directly in the book. Skye elaborated on points, and skipped over others. She used her own words to make the text easier to follow and more interesting.

It wasn't until class was over two hours later that Ginny realized just how powerful a speaker Skye was. She straightened and grabbed her bag from the floor. She turned to Heather, who was looking, for once, stunned. "That was amazing." She said, her voice low and breathy.

"The way she talked about the movements in traditional Spanish dances and what they meant made me want to get up and dance the salsa!" Ginny gasped, laughing at the thought of her dancing in front of class.

Heather grinned. "C'mon, I want to go talk to her." She said, pulling Ginny forward. Ginny began moving with Heather, but stopped abruptly, her hand sliding from Heather's. Someone had trod on the end of her skirt.

Ginny looked up. _Damn._ She thought, staring up into the cool, aggressive eyes of Draco Malfoy. Like as not, he'd take her skirt getting under his shoe as a personal insult.

She tugged gently on the end of her long skirt, but it was wedged firmly under Malfoy's well-polished shoe. She sighed regretfully.

"'Scuse me, Malfoy. I'm afraid you're standing on my skirt." She said smoothly, not allowing any disgust to tinge her voice.

Draco Malfoy was still staring at her, as if he hadn't heard her. He suddenly seemed to snap back to reality. He hopped off her skirt most comically. Or, at least tried to; he simply got his foot tangled in the skirt. Ginny stared and stifled a giggle. He looked quite funny.

He opened his mouth, almost as if to apologize, then stopped, shutting it rather quickly and glared at her. "Try and watch where you're going next time, Weasley." He snarled, getting back some of his real Malfoy enmity.

Ginny rolled her eyes, still tugging at her skirt. "Yeah, sorry your foot made its way onto my skirt. Absolutely my fault. Oh, I'm so ashamed and disgraced." She said theatrically, throwing a hand up to her forehead.

She pulled her hand down, sneering at him. "Just move your damned foot, Malfoy."

He scowled and stepped even harder on her skirt, rubbing it against the dirty floor.

Ginny fumed. "Get-off-my-bloody-skirt-you-prat!" She shrieked, pulling at her skirt so forcefully that Malfoy nearly lost his balance as she snatched it from under his foot.

Fuming at the annoying blonde, Ginny stormed off, giving him a very rude gesture behind her back. Heather stood close, her face expressionless, but her eyes dancing.

"That was certainly interesting." She said flatly, moving back to where Skye was surrounded by several Ravenclaw sixth years. Ginny growled and turned back to Malfoy.

He was standing by the door, talking to Blaise Zabini. What was unnerving was that they were both staring at her and Heather. Not meanly, not sneeringly, not with that I'm-better-than-you-Gryffindors contemptuous look. Merely looking. Ginny shuddered and scowled at the Slytherins. Malfoy took Zabini's arm and tugged him insistently out of the classroom.

Ginny turned to Heather, who was staring broodingly at the doorway. "That was odd." She said nonchalantly, and turned back to Skye, who was beaming at them.

Ginny forgot all about Draco Malfoy as she listened to her dance professor talk.

Draco Malfoy walked down the corridor to the Slytherin common room, deep in thought. It wasn't until someone flicked him on the arm that he remembered he wasn't walking alone. He looked up into steely black eyes.

"What?" He asked Blaise impatiently.

Blaise cocked his head. "What was that all about?" He asked, nodding back to the dance class. Draco scowled. "Stupid Weasley brat got in my way." He snarled.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well, if you say so…Personally, I think Gryffindors are far too lucky. Those two are stunning."

"What are you talking about?" Draco snapped.

Blaise stopped. "Weasley and her friend. They've certainly grown up, 'specially the Weasley girl." He whistled appreciatively.

Draco scowled. "Zabini, are you insane? They're Gryffindors for Christ's sake. A Weasley and a half-blood!" He fumed, wishing he hadn't been thinking the same thing.

Draco Malfoy was by no means handsome in the rugged, good-looking way that Harry, Ron, and Seamus were. He wasn't even like Blaise. Where the others were broad and burly, Draco was slender and lean, his muscles well-toned, but not bulging.

He was tall and strong, a formidable Quidditch player and devastating heart-breaker. He was sleek and quiet; except for the few quips he sent Potter's way. That never got old.

He was rather good-looking, but his features were marred by the scowl or sneer he usually wore. His pale, silvery-blonde hair was no longer plastered to his head, but allowed to break free and hang about in his face. It had grown longer, now coming down just below his ears.

His stormy eyes, though, were intense. They were an ethereal silvery color, with specks of an icy blue that chilled to the bone.

Blaise Zabini however was very good-looking, with his dark, mysterious looks. He had long, dark hair that was always pulled back, hanging untidily in his face. His piercing black eyes stared out from under strands of hair, and when he wanted to, he was capable of looking very menacing indeed.

He was about Draco's height, just a little shorter than his six feet, but bulkier, more muscled.

Blaise shook his head. "I don't care what house they're in, they're incredible. C'mon, Malfoy, mate. You've got to be tired of all the Pansy-look-alikes." He said, referring to the air headed blonde chatter box that'd been clinging onto Draco and Blaise in the most maddening fashion.

Draco shrugged. "That's certainly undeniable. But that doesn't make Weasleys any better." He missed the look the other boy gave him.

"Well, I'm sick of Pansy crooning over me all the time. That girl with Weasley, Rambinski, I think she's something." He grinned, a look of awe on his face. "Did you hear about her standing up to Snape last week? She scolded him for saying something about Muggles. Actually scolded him! He was so surprised he didn't even give her detention! She's amazing. Got a real backbone in her."

Draco stuck his tongue out in disgust. "She's a bloody Gryffindor!" He hissed.

Blaise shrugged. "She a damned good-looking one, too. I don't care what house she's in. And that Weasley girl…not quite as good-looking in my opinion, but damned well hilarious. You'd like her humor; I heard her talking with Hea-Rambinski in the library. She and Weasley are rather interesting, and at least it would be a break from the monotony. I think I might ask her to go with me to Hogsmeade." He said, biting his lip.

Draco whirled around on Blaise, feeling for some unexplainable reason, upset. "What, Weasley?" He asked, trying to sound disgusted.

Blaise shook his head. "She's neat and all, but that Rambinski girl is irresistible. D'you think she'll go with me?" He asked, hopefully.

Draco fumed, even more so for the relief that washed over him. "Why would you want to? God damn it, Zabini, you could get any girl in Slytherin. Even half the girls from Ravenclaw would go with you. What's the attraction to that little dark witch?" He stared unbelievingly at his friend.

Blaise shrugged. "Not only is she extremely pretty, but she's smart. Not book-smart like that bossy Granger girl. She's…well, sharp. Talking to her would be much more preferable to talking with someone like Pansy."

Draco shook his head. "Do what you like, Zabini, I won't stop you."

Blaise grinned and turned around. Draco stopped and ran back to grab his friend. "What're you doing?"

"I'm going to go ask her." Blaise said simply.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Now? Christ Zabini, you've never even spoken more than two sentences to the girl."

Blaise shrugged again, still moving ahead. "The trip to Hogsmeade is today. I want to see if she wants to go. If not, oh well, I tried."

Draco sighed and followed his friend back to the dance class.

What he didn't tell his love-struck friend was that he had initially thought the same thing. Being in a different year and different house, Draco barely ever saw the Weasley girl and her friend.

But seeing them in dance class was a new experience, one he was shocked to find, wasn't half-bad. The Rambinski girl was sharp. She had a smooth, melodious voice and looked like she was walking around in a dream half the time.

On the other hand, Weasley was violently vibrant with life. He'd never really noticed before, but she was alarmingly attractive. It wasn't that she was pretty, or cuddle-cute, as Pansy had dubbed herself. She was sharp and slender, very Elvin-like in looks.

And her sense of style was rather interesting too.


	2. Barbies, Sarcasm, and Contamination

**Author's Note:** Yay! Chapter 2! Okay, a few warnings for the delicately-minded few: I use many rotten words other than British terms, such as the 'f' word (and I'm not talking about fluffy, I mean the bad, icky, nasty 'f" word), so if you don't like that kind of language, don't read this. I have a soft spot for that word. That, and damn. Lovely words. This story may have to be upgraded to 'R', but only because of language. No sex, alcochol (much), or drugs. Just teenage drama. Gasp.

**Disclaimer:** See last chapter (if you have a problem with this, take it out on my frozen fingers).

**Dancing Life **

**Chapter 2: Barbies, Sarcasm, and Contamination**

**

* * *

**

Draco sighed as Blaise opened the door to the dance classroom. He heard three laughs. One was soft and low; husky, but soothing. The other was deep and booming, still feminine. And the third pulsated with life; real energy.

He walked in behind Blaise. The two girls that had been on their minds were sitting in chairs near Professor Skye, who was twirling around, her arms extended. She stopped as the two Slytherin boys entered. She was no longer wearing her robes, but was now clad in only an electric blue leotard and short skirt.

Draco sneered.

Instead of looking embarrassed or blushing, the teacher simply smiled at them and continued spinning, talking to the girls through the blur of blue.

"So, it's spin, spin, spin, stop" she stopped, put one leg forward and leaned down over it, extending her arm gracefully "and up" she nimbly pulled herself up on her toes "and leap" she jumped up, kicking her legs out, one in front, one behind, so gracefully it was breathtaking to watch "now, on one foot, and twirl!" she'd landed, only to bring one foot up to her thigh, it's knee pointing away from her body. She rose up on the toes of her one foot and began to twirl, sweeping out with her foot for movement and balance.

She stopped, cheeks glowing. "Dance is whatever you feel, Ginny. There is no right or wrong, so you don't have to worry about not knowing how to dance. There is no one way to dance." She said softly, staring down at the red-head, who was beaming gratefully.

Draco sneered at her smile, mostly because it made him catch his breath. "Unfortunately, falling on your face doesn't constitute as dancing, so it looks like you're out of luck, Weasley." He jeered.

To his surprise, she only laughed, though the blueberry-headed teacher looked fairly upset. "Knowing my clumsiness, I probably will end up on my face. But, hey, it's all in good fun." She shrugged, smiling at Malfoy.

He stared. Why was she smiling at him? He'd just insulted her.

"Uh, yeah." He said lamely, elbowing Blaise as he started laughing. "Good job, Malfoy. I'd say she's not so scared of you anymore. On the contrary, I'd say you're a little afraid of h-"another elbow to the stomach cut off Blaise's smart remark.

Heather arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Blaise shuffled over to where the girls were sitting, relaxed. To Draco's surprise and disgust, he scuffed his foot on the stone floor.

"Um, hey, Rambinski? Hi, err I'm-er, my name's Blaise Zabini." He said, holding out his hand awkwardly.

For a second, Draco smirked as the usually composed girl looked shocked. His smile dropped when she smiled softly and took his large hand in her small one, shaking it firmly. "Heather Rambinski." She supplied, dropping his hand.

Ginny was fighting to suppress giggles. He had it bad for her!

Draco glanced away from the couple to look at the red-headed brat. She was rocking in her chair, biting her lip. But that still couldn't keep her from grinning. Her sharp eyes were glinting evilly.

She looked up and caught his look. She immediately turned away, her cheeks flushing.

Blaise was still shifting nervously. "Well, you know there's a trip to Hogsmeade today, and…well, I know you're a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin, but, well, I was wondering, that is, if you don't mind…"

Heather smiled knowingly and turned to Ginny, who immediately stopped giggling. "Hey, Gin, weren't you saying you wanted to stay at the library today, instead of going to Hogsmeade?" She prompted.

Ginny nodded. She never went to Hogsmeade anymore; after giving up Harry, she rarely felt inclined to go, and Heather usually wanted to stay in the library as well. But Ginny saw where her friend was going.

"Yeah, but what about you? I don't want you to be alone…" She trailed off, stifling another wave of giggles.

Heather turned to Blaise, who was looking like a child at Christmas. "Say, Zabini…do you mind going to Hogsmeade with me? Ginny can't come, and I'd be so lonely by myself." She shrugged helplessly.

Draco's mouth was hanging open. They were pretty sneaky for Gryffindors. His eyes hadn't been glued to the Rambinski girl, so he'd caught the understanding glance the two girls had passed.

What was even more shocking was that neither had panicked, and the Rambinski girl actually wanted to go!

Blaise quickly accepted the invitation.

Heather stood up and gathered her things. "Alright, Gin? I'll see you in the library when I get back." She grinned and they left the classroom. Professor Skye had left some time before, so it was just Draco and Ginny.

Ginny smiled and leaned back in her chair, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, that was interesting. To say the least." She leaned back farther.

Draco looked around. There was no one else in the classroom, so she had to be talking to him. But why? Ginny noticed his glance around the room. "Yes, Malfoy, I'm talking to you. Surprised?" She grinned.

He turned back to her, trying not to notice how attractive she was when she grinned.

"Well, considering we're not really on a friendly basis, I don't see why I shouldn't be." He retorted.

Ginny shrugged and shook her head. "Well, your best friend is interested in my best friend, so it looks like we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other." _Not that I mind_. She thought, glancing appreciatively at Draco.

He was rather easy on the eyes, though the fact that he was a Malfoy never left her. She wasn't interested, just merely thinking the obvious.

He was doing his own bit of staring. They both glanced up at each other and turned away, Ginny smirking. "I didn't realize you Slyths would ever sink so low as to ask a Gryf out." She said teasingly, wondering briefly why she was smiling and not scowling.

Draco shrugged. "You Gryf girls keep getting so damned attractive; what do you expect? We are Slytherins, we are better than you, but we ARE boys." He smirked, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

Ginny couldn't either, but she hid her surprise. Malfoy wasn't as great a prick as Ron made him out to be. He was actually quite enjoyable company; she liked his sarcasm and wit; it wasn't the all-out goofy antics of Seamus Finnegan, who was greatly revered in the Gryffindor common room as a comedian, but it was funny. To her, at least.

She smiled. "What's wrong with the Barbies in Slytherin?" She quipped, thinking of Pansy Parkinson, the perfect blonde with the perfect body and the perfect clothes.

Draco cocked his head. "Barbie?" He queried.

"Muggle doll. Perfect, plastic, and a little top-heavy. Anatomically incorrect." She explained glancing meaningfully down at her rather flat chest.

Draco's eyes opened wider in surprise. She certainly made no pretense at being modest; talking about things like that in front, no, with him. It was rather relieving. Pansy and her crowd were always pretending to be so virtuous while still trying to throw themselves at every boy that passed.

The Weasley girl was certainly not the sluttish type, but she wasn't a shy little girl anymore, either.

"Anyway, I was saying…what's wrong with the Slytherin girls? It's not like you and Zabini are horrifying monsters…though you're no Harry Potter." She grinned as Draco scowled at her.

She fluttered her eyelashes dramatically. "He's sooooooo dreamy." She sighed in an airy voice, putting her hand to her forehead as she had done earlier.

Draco's scowl lessened. Sarcasm? Over Potter? Everyone knew the littlest Weasley fancied the stupid prat, though he never noticed her.

She removed her hand, grinning. "Cynicism. A girl's best friend. Right up there with diamonds, though if I had to live without one of them, I'd ditch the diamonds. Can't live for more than a day without some sardonic remark. It would kill me." She smiled again.

Draco actually grinned at this. Ginny's smile dropped into a round 'o', staring at him. He was astonishingly good-looking when he smiled.

"Listen, Weasley, I know I'm sexy and everything, but do you have to stare so openly?" He sneered at her stare.

She snapped out of it with a glare that could kill, then smiled meanly. "Sorry, Malfoy. I just didn't think you were capable of smiling. Must've pulled a muscle or something. Don't blame you, though. With your life, I wouldn't smile much either, you egocentric, rich, prat. Especially with that Pansy creature hanging all over you." She sat back in her chair, suddenly interested in her nails, unable to stop a smile creeping onto her lips.

Draco stared. What the hell? He was supposed to be the insulting one. When had she gotten so good at sharp remarks? They were worthy of…well, a Slytherin!

She was smiling again. "You look so lost when you're not the one dishing out insults."

He scowled and stood. "I've got better things to do than sit here and take this crap. I don't want to be contaminated by you, you disgustingly poor, filthy, Muggle-loving wretch!" He smirked to himself as he moved to the door.

He was nearly out the door when he felt a hand grab his arm. He whirled around and found her standing right in front of him, inches from his face. She was smiling wickedly and he didn't like the look she was giving him.

"You forgot ugly." She remarked and quickly pushed her lips to his.

Draco nearly dropped his bag. What the bloody hell was she doing!? She nipped at his lower lip and he gasped into her mouth, the corners of which instantly turned up into a smile. He sighed. This was amazing! He felt alternately hot and cold.

He moved his hands up to pull her closer. For some reason, he needed to find out how she felt against him. But she moved her hands up to his chest and pushed him off, grinning coolly and wickedly, completely unaffected.

"Awww, too bad. You're contaminated now. I'd love to see you try and burn your mouth off. It would solve a lot of problems." She laughed throatily.

Draco was breathless. What was she talking about? He wondered briefly. Then he saw her smirk derisively. She'd been messing with his head. She'd done a very good job too.

Draco didn't even have the wits to move as she left the room, still giggling.

He touched his lips. They were tingling numbly. His whole body was. Someone would think he'd just had his first kiss with someone he liked, not his hundredth or so with someone he hated.

He shook his head, trying to get her face from his mind. And he'd thought she was just an innocent, nice little weasel! He was sorely mistaken. He shook his head again, trying to clear it. He pulled his backpack on his shoulder and left the class, thinking about an annoying little pixy with red hair.

Ginny was still giggling to herself fifteen minutes later in the library. The look on the stupid git's face! She'd nearly died laughing. She was a little surprised, though. He'd seemed so uncertain, so unsure, so unlike his usual confident self. Probably just too shocked at what she'd done.

Ginny was rather shocked at herself. But it wasn't her first kiss, so it wasn't anything special. Just a way to screw around with Malfoy's head. And gods had she! She laughed again, Madame Pince shooting her a sharp glance.

He was probably either throwing up right now, or feeling sick enough to. She grinned maniacally. He definitely hadn't expected her to do that. She was rather pleased to have flipped him out for once. Served the stupid bloody bastard right.

That had been mean, though, and Ginny's conscience tugged insistently. Had it been anyone other than Malfoy, she wouldn't have done it. Leading someone on like that only to mess around them was disgustingly vicious. But it WAS Malfoy, so there was no problem. It wasn't like he'd fall for her, so she didn't have to worry about his feelings.

Her kiss would make him sick, angry, or just make him laugh if he thought she was throwing herself at him. But it didn't matter. She didn't care if people heard; she'd given up trying to make people like her. Besides, she was sixteen, nearly seventeen. She could bloody well do what she liked. And all other things aside, she was one up on Malfoy.

Several hours later, Heather entered the library quietly. She slid over to where Ginny was sitting, dropping into the seat next to the expectant red-head.

"Well?" Ginny asked, leaning forward in her seat.

"Well what?" Heather evaded, and for once, Ginny noticed that her friend had lost her composure; she looked flustered and confused, and she was blushing softly.

"Wow." Ginny commented, sitting back and smiling "Did it go all that well? I do hope our dear Slytherin behaved himself. On the other hand, maybe I should be worried about him…? Why did you want to go?" She asked, curiosity hinting in her voice.

Heather flushed. "Is it that obvious?" She gasped.

Ginny grinned wryly at her pleased friend. "Well, not really, but I know how you are, and you're always so calm and serene. So what happened, did he kiss you?" She asked, curiosity taking over again.

The rosy color that flared across her friend's cheeks was answer enough. She shrieked softly, remembering Madame Pince. "YOU DIDN"T!" She gasped.

Heather smiled shyly and nodded.

"Why? He's a Slytherin! Why would you want to? I mean, I know he's cute and all, but, come on, Heather!" She gaped at her friend.

"He's actually really nice…for a Slytherin. He's helped me in Herbology a few times after class. He's amazing in that class, and…well, you know me…I can kill a plant just by looking at it. I'm horrible with any living plant. But he showed me how to take care of plants, and…well, he's just really nice, that's all." She stammered.

Ginny shrugged. "Sounds nice. I was just curious. He seems to really like you, and you…you're more flustered now than I've ever seen you, so he must have done something right." She grinned. "So, did you kiss, or was it just a peck?"

"Yeah, just a peck. Right before he left to go off to his common room." She touched a finger to her lips then bit it softly, and thoughtfully.

"I think I really like him."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "That's terrific!" She breathed. "I've been thinking you really needed a guy for a long time. Can't believe no one's noticed how awesome you are. Besides said Slytherin, of course. I must say, though, he's brought my opinion of the whole Slytherin house up. You, a Gryffindor fifth year-"

"And half-Muggle." Heather reminded her.

"And half-Muggle; and him a pureblood Slytherin seventh year! And he was so nervous with you! It was sick making to watch. I thought Malfoy would be sick." Her eyes widened, thinking of her prank.

She doubled over with repressed laughter.

Heather stared at her. "What?" She asked, curiously.

"Oh, I almost wish you hadn't gone just so you could have seen his face!" She gasped.

Heather tilted her head to one side, looking thoroughly confused. "What? Whose face?"

Ginny sat up, wiping tears from her eyes. "Malfoy's; the stupid blubbering git! Oh, it was the best trick ever." She sniggered, and told Heather of what she'd done to Malfoy.

Heather laughed with her, but looked pensive and disturbed.

Ginny noticed immediately. "What's wrong?" She asked.

Heather shrugged. "Yeah, it's funny as hell and all, but what if he thinks you like him? What if he likes you?" She played the 'what if' card, but she'd seen the way Malfoy had been staring at Ginny in the dance class.

Ginny scoffed. "When hell freezes over." She muttered. "Listen, Heather; Malfoy's family and mine are deadly enemies. He hates all Weasleys." She sat back. "I did think about it, but, it's only Malfoy. The only thing that kiss made him feel was filthy, he said as much himself. Dirty bastard." They laughed, though underneath the laughs, Heather still wasn't reassured.

The next morning Ginny awoke feeling a wave of excitement and impatience as she realized she had another dance class, but it was still for another few hours. She jumped up from her bed, contemplating what to wear to class.

Skye had told them that they'd be practicing a couple of simple dances, and even allowed to make up their own. Flushed and excited, Ginny flew to her trunk. Several minutes later she walked down to the common room.

"Wow, Gin. Nice look." Heather smiled up from a chair, dressed all in black; black pleated skirt, black top, black stockings, and black boots.

Ginny, contrastingly, was wearing a short bright red skirt, an orange button-down top and knee-high red socks in black flats. Her vibrant red hair was spiked up in the back and sides, inspired by Skye's incredible hair from the day before.

Ginny smiled. "And you. Going for the dark, gothic look?" She commented as the girls moved off to the Great Hall.

Heather shrugged, and crossly tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Nope, I'm in mourning." She said simply.

Ginny looked slightly alarmed. "Relax Gin, it's an annual thing. The anniversary of that stupid git Cornelius Fudge becoming Minister." She scowled as Ginny broke into fits of laughter.

After breakfast, Ginny and Heather made their way to their Dancing Life class. They got there half an hour too early, but went in anyways.

Skye was sitting on the floor, Indian-style. Both girls gaped. Her hair was a bright canary yellow, matching her sunflower-colored robes. She opened her eyes, which they were relieved to find, were still blue.

She smiled. "Second time's just as bad as the first." She explained, noting where their eyes were resting. She stood up and the smoke disappeared.

Ginny stared. "Is that…natural? Does it happen on its own?" Skye smiled. "No, I just like to change my hair every once in a while." She explained. "It's a great spell my mum taught me; only a few witches can do it, and even fewer wizards."

She pulled her wand from her yellow robes and tapped her head. "Strabellous!" She whispered, and her hair changed to a bright, cherry red. She noticed Ginny's open mouth and smiled. "It's great fun, especially at parties." She grinned and tapped her head with her wand. "Sunnabellous." Her hair went back to a bright yellow.

Ginny's eyes were popping out of her head. "I've got to learn how to do that." She whispered to Heather, who nodded, equally impressed.

The rest of the class came in, all more or less shocked at their Professor's change in hair color. She simply smiled and glanced down at her sunny nails.

Once the entire class was seated and listening intently, Skye smiled at them. "Yesterday we went over some of the history of dance in different cultures. Today, we're doing to do a little active participation. I'm going to give you a country, and I want you to look up dances (she gestured to a pile of books lined up against the wall) and perform a dance from that country." She beamed at them.

For the most part, everyone looked a little tentative, but thoroughly interested. Then a silky, drawling voice cut through the classroom.

"Are we working on our own, or in pairs?"

Ginny turned around, recognizing Draco Malfoy's voice. Her mouth dropped open. He was practically right behind her, staring intently straight at her. She whirled around as Skye answered him.

"Why, yes, Draco. Thank you for bringing that up. You'll have to pair up; boy/girl." Her eyes scanned the room. "Ah, and there will be four girls left over, but that's perfect. The four girls who wish to be in the last group will make up their own dance based on the style from the country I give them." She smiled again.

"Which four girls would like to be in that group?"

Ginny immediately began to raise her hand, but as soon as she moved it from her lap, there was a long, pale hand over it. She gasped and turned. Draco was right next to her now, half out of his seat. "Not a chance, Weasley. After yesterday, you owe me a dance at least. You're mine." He growled deeply, still staring at her.

Ginny's mouth dropped open. Before she could answer, Skye's voice broke into her thoughts. "Perfect, you four will do fine. Now, will the rest of you please pair up?" Ginny really did gasp as Draco pulled her up from her seat and close to him.

She turned to him; he was staring at her, his eyes unreadable. "What the hell, Malfoy?" She hissed under her breath as other people began to pair up. She barely noticed Blaise Zabini and Heather pairing up across the room, both giving Draco and Ginny odd looks.

He dragged his eyes to hers, looking darkly at her. "What the bloody hell was that kiss about yesterday?"

Ginny swallowed nervously; he looked really pissed off. Then she looked deeper into his eyes. He looked…scared, and uncertain. She smirked to herself. He didn't understand her; she had the upper hand.

"Because I'm deeply in love with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." She said in a downright phony voice, grabbing the front of his robes and staring deeply into his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

He scowled and pushed her (giggling madly) off him. He supposed it would have been rather funny, if he hadn't hoped for a second, that she was serious. He tried to shrug off his disappointment.

"Really, though, you were being a prat." She said, matter-of-factly.

He rolled his eyes. Where did she get off insulting him? He actually found he didn't mind her sharp comments so much. "If I was being a prat, you were being a bitch. And a damned rotten one, too." He shot back. She simply smiled, and pretended to blush.

"Why, Draco Malfoy, I do believe that was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." She batted her eyelashes at him.

He couldn't help but grin.

Skye came over to where they were standing, saying nothing as she handed Draco a piece of parchment, but arching an eyebrow just the same.

Draco unfolded the parchment. "Ugh. England. Great." He moaned, handing her the paper. Her eyes lit up. "Oh, let's do the waltz!" She cried, clapping her hands together like a small child.

Draco sighed, throwing his head back, and looking up at the ceiling resignedly. He looked back down at her. "If we must."

Draco would have done anything, including hopping around the class in a leotard, to replicate the smile that lit up her face at his consent.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She jumped up and hugged him, for some strange, unknown reason. "I've always loved the waltz. It's so elegant and graceful." She sighed, sitting back down, looking rather happy.

"In that case, maybe we should choose another dance." He joked. She glared at him, but even then, she couldn't help but grin. "Hey, I took dance classes when I was a little girl; I can be damn well graceful when I please, but not everyone has to make sitting down look so lithe and smooth." She gazed pointedly at where he had sunk self-consciously into his chair.

He shook his head. Blaise had been right; she was something. "Well, not everyone has to be so violently lively." He said, staring at where her foot was tapping bouncily on the ground. She shrugged, a dramatic, energetic shrug.

"I can see you dancing to a Latin dance; rapid, flowing, vigorous, and fast-paced. Somehow, the waltz doesn't really suit you." He said, staring at her.

She flushed. "I'll take that as a compliment as I'm not likely to get many of those; you expressing compliments is like Snape handing out candy: done grudgingly and rarely."

He grinned back at her, then stopping, as if seeing something new. "You aren't afraid of me, are you?" He asked.

Ginny laughed. "Not a chance, Malfoy. You've made me laugh more times than you've made me cringe." She laughed harder.

Suddenly, Draco was in her face. He pressed his hand to her cheek. She stopped laughing, but remained calm; he was just trying to scare her as she had him.

He was fighting hard not to lose control. She was staring back at him as if he weren't there. How could she be so cool when he was nearly going insane trying not to push his lips to hers, just to taste her mouth.

"Are you scared of me now?" He asked, surprised at his own voice; it was unnaturally high. Ginny giggled at this. "No." She laughed in his face.

He moved his head closer to hers. There was no change in her expression; if anything, it seemed to grow even less disconcerted, as if he were merely a blank page in an already boring book.

"And now?" He asked, his voice strained, but low again.

Ginny rolled her eyes to prevent him from seeing the fear (or was it anticipation?) in them. "Please, Malfoy. You could go the rest of the way and kiss me for all I care; it doesn't really matter to me." She said, in a slightly annoyed voice, tapping her foot.

Draco stared. She was impossible; there was no way someone with that much life could be so cold in the face of passion. It was inconceivable. It wasn't like he was bad-looking. In fact, several girls though he was rather handsome; at least sexy. And then it dawned on him: Potter.

He snarled and looked at her amber eyes, bare inches from his own. "Are you sure? Don't think your boyfriend would like that too much. St. Potter might get jealous and come after me. I'd just be doing you a favor, though: as his girlfriend, you've probably never had a real kiss." He sneered. Not for long.

He got the emotion and life he'd wanted, but it was the wrong emotion.

Ginny glared at him angrily and shoved him back against the wall. Her fists at his collar, she pushed her body against him, taking all her self-control not to pound his face in.

"First of all, Malfoy: what goes on between me and Harry remains between me and Harry. But just so you don't go around deluding yourself, here's a little hint: I'm not with Harry Potter, nor, might I add, do I want to be. Not" she snarled "that it's any of your business, but I gave up on him a long time ago. So you can just sod off, and don't you dare think about feeling sorry for me." She scowled and dropped the fistfuls of robe she'd been holding.

Draco was stunned. Her eyes were blazing dangerously, sending him the message (along with her furious scowl) that this was a topic best left un-discussed.

"Sorry Weasley; you've been following him around for the past six years, I just though…well, never mind what I thought. I didn't mean to get you so riled up."

Ginny stared up at him. He sounded so sincere, which was a big deal for a Malfoy.

She frowned and looked sheepishly at where she'd grabbed his robes. She reached up and smoothed out the wrinkles she'd made. "Sorry, Malfoy. Touchy subject." She shrugged apologetically.

He brushed it aside. "Hey, no problem, weasel. Glad you're over Potter, though. He never deserved you." He walked over to where Skye was handing out books.

Ginny cocked her head, puzzled. A compliment? From Malfoy? This day was getting stranger and stranger by the moment. She sighed and starting moving her feet, trying to recall what she'd learned in her few dance classes.


	3. Weasley Withdrawl Symptoms?

**Author's Note: **Third chapter is up. Huzzah. Um, nothing much has changed. Aside from the plot, of course. I really hope you all like this one, I do. But then again, I watch X-Files and BBC, so...don't take my word for it. I really want to know what you think of it . I know that Draco and Ginny have come together (friendly-like at least) rather quickly, but most of the story is them after getting together. The problems they encounter, so on and so forth. I also know that this story is revoltingly fluffy and uncharacteristic in a lot of ways, especially with Draco, but allow for changes. After all, people change, right? Besides, how would someone who's never encountered love react to it? Read and enjoy!

** Disclaimer:** Not mine, unless it's not J.K. Rowlings; same as first chapter.

**Dancing Life **

**Chapter 3: Weasley Withdrawal Symptoms?**

**

* * *

**

Draco headed over to where Skye had just deposited a large stack of dance books in front of her desk, blatantly ignoring the witch as she plopped down into her own chair with a lazy sigh.

He picked up a thick blue dance book and flipped lazily through the pages, not really reading it or looking at the enchanted moving pictures. What was it with him? He couldn't get her off his mind. After that one, teasing kiss the day before, she was all he could think about.

No matter how many times he tried to concentrate on something else, she popped up continually. The worst had been this morning, when he was dressing.

He'd been sifting through his clothes, trying to decide what to wear. He'd pulled out a silky green shirt; one he never wore because of how form-fitting it was. Before he could stop himself, he was thinking of how incredible Weasley would look in that shirt. And only that shirt. Nothing else.

He'd hastily shoved the shirt back in trunk, panicking. He tried to think of school, but all he could think about was how adorable SHE looked when she was frustrated with her work. He tried to think of Quidditch, but all he could think of then was how sleek she was practicing on her brother's broom. He'd never realized before how often he watched her; mostly because before he was too preoccupied to see her aside from her stereotype as a Weasley.

He sighed and glanced at the book he was holding. It was on little-known dances in medieval England. He watched the dancers in the picture spin about each other. The man in the picture picked up the woman by the waist and spun her around, her arms out stretched, trusting in him completely. He swept her around a few more times, then set her down, where they danced.

For an old English dance, it was incredible. The pair in the picture were so confidant, not only in themselves, but their partner as well. The man and woman spun away from each other, then back. They were moving so fast, it looked like it might hurt when they joined back together again, but they didn't hit each other; they melded together. Their movements were so fluid and synchronized, it was astounding. Even Draco was spell-bound.

"Ahh, yes, the dance of life. A very good choice, Draco."

Draco spun around. Skye was standing behind him, looking over his shoulder with a satisfied smile on her lips. "Very much frowned upon at one time, that was. English aristocrats didn't like how much contact the dancers had. It was too fast-paced and complicated." She grinned. "And required far too much physical exertion."

Draco simply stared at her with his identifying I'm-a-Malfoy-and-therefore-not-interested-in-what-you-have-to-say-so-bugger-off look.

"I think your choice is very fitting." She glanced over at where Ginny was spinning in the corner, practicing her dance steps, oblivious to the view she was giving Malfoy (and the rest of the males in the room, only a few of which were staring appreciatively) as her short skirt flipped up every so often, showing off a small expanse of thigh.

"Especially considering your dance partner's enthusiasm and lively nature." Skye smirked, noticing with no small amount of amusement the glint of anger and perhaps jealousy in Draco's eyes as the red-head continued to spin.

Okay, so she was barely showing but a little leg, but for some reason he really didn't like it, especially the more-than-just-mildly-interested look sixth year Benton Cassel from Hufflepuff was giving her. Or rather, her legs and backside.

Draco slammed shut the book as Skye moved off, still smirking to herself. Draco shoved the book away. No way he was dancing that stupid bloody dance with Weasley; he'd do the fucking boring waltz, just to spite the damn teacher.

He stormed over to where Ginny was now doing a little, strange dance step, bouncing up and down every so often.

Draco tried to ignore the way her hair (and other anatomy parts) bounced alluringly and frowned hard at her, grabbing her arms before she had a chance to start spinning again.

"What the hell, Weasley?" He hissed.

She cocked her head, slightly startled, but mostly confused. "What?" She asked, wondering why he looked so pissed off.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, flashing the whole bloody class like that? Is that how you get your kicks? Fine, do that for Potter and whoever else wants it, but it's disgusting the way you flaunt your body in front of everyone." He grimaced, feeling sick. She was such a tease; teasing first him with the kiss, and then the rest of the class with a little peep show. Well, it had just been a little thigh, but completely unsuitable for such an innocent like her. But what really ticked him off was that he'd fallen for it.

She'd gotten him hooked.

Ginny tilted her head to the other side. "Malfoy, what the hell are you talking about?"

He nearly let her go then; she really sounded like she didn't know what he was talking about. But that just wasn't possible; no one could be so ignorant and unaware of their own charm and appeal. It just wasn't probable.

"Don't give me that shit, Weasley. You were doing it right here, and you knew full and well what you were doing. Bloody sick the way you show your body around."

She still looked confused. She looked down at her shirt (particularly the chest area) as if looking for a gaping hole in her clothes.

"Damn it girl! The whole fucking class saw half your thigh, and who knows how much more they would have seen if I hadn't come over here. Bloody revolting."

Ginny looked down at her legs, touching a hand to her skirt. "But- how?" She asked, quietly, fingering the hem.

Draco rolled his eyes and Ginny swallowed. Exasperation looked good on him.

"What the fuck do you mean, how? You were spinning around like a top, your skirt flying up nauseatingly high. Goddamn pathetic."

Ginny's face went ghastly pale. "You saw my legs?" She gasped, looking like she was going to cry. Or be sick.

"Not by my own choice." Draco snarled, wishing he hadn't started this whole thing. She'd barely done anything, but he made it seem like…well, never mind that. He could see that she was on the verge of tears. He'd made her seem like a cheap slut when she was just…well, ignorant.

Ginny bit her lip. "I forgot I was wearing a skirt…I didn't think anyone…I never would have." She looked imploringly into his unreadable iron eyes. "Jesus, Malfoy. You've got to believe me. I don't do stuff like that, it's sickening. I can't believe…" She trailed off, biting back tears. Gods, why did she sound so disgusting?

She shrugged, trying to remain calm and unperturbed. "Whatever. So people saw a few more inches of the skinny sticks that are supposed to pass for my legs. No big deal."

Even Draco didn't fall for that. To her, it was a big deal. He felt suddenly sorry he'd made such a stink over it; it hadn't been anything!

"Weasley, I-"

"Malfoy, look-"

They cut each other off. Ginny grinned wryly. "Thanks, Malfoy. I'm glad you, er- stopped me…from, well, yeah. Thanks." For once, she looked unsure.

She wriggled out of his arms and stuck out her hand.

Draco took it. "No problem, Weasley. But perhaps I should watch out for you; you don't seem to know much about your own body. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble; there's some unscrupulous characters out there." He frowned as Ginny doubled over in laughter.

"Yeah, Malfoy, like you're the best candidate to keep me out of trouble and away from devious and immoral boys." She sobered up. "But I think I might take you up on that offer. Hanging around you will give me an insight into the mind of a twisted, dodgy personality." She grinned as he protested and grabbed his hand.

"Come on, we need to go learn the waltz."

Ginny sighed and closed her Charms book. She couldn't concentrate today; she'd just have to wait for Draco.

She sat back in her seat in the back of the library, far from Madame Pince's roving eye.

It was a Friday afternoon, about two months after the beginning of dance class. She'd been surprised that Draco had kept up with his promise, although the issue of her flaunting her body never came up again, except for in casual conversation, usually when he was teasing her.

She and Draco got along rather well, and Ginny found herself spending more time with him. Not like they were a couple; they'd both agreed to that early on, Draco blanching theatrically at the mere thought.

Not that she'd mind. After two months, she discovered that she liked being in his company (and he was pleasing to look at), more than anyone else's, save for Heather. But her best friend was quite preoccupied with her Slytherin bloke.

She and Blaise had started dating soon after their first trip to Hogsmeade. Ginny hadn't been the only one to notice that the quiet, inexpressive dark witch had suddenly taken to going on the trips to the magical community more often.

Ron and Harry had caught her with Blaise once. Talking to Ginny later, they were both horrified. "But he's a Slytherin!" Ron had gasped.

Ginny loved watching her brother squirm. He'd been such a prat to her in her school years. He would either order her around, or tell her who she could see and who she couldn't, or just plain ignore her.

She could just imagine the look on his face if he knew she was meeting more than weekly with Draco Malfoy. One of the strange things that attracted Ginny to Draco (or rather, his company) was his humor. If he wasn't in a foul mood, or angry with her, he was actually quite pleasant to be around.

Sure, he insulted her, but she did so to him as well, and after a while, they both laughed at each other's taunts and brushed them off.

Ginny looked up as a heavy book bag dropped in front of her.

Draco grinned down at her. "Hey, weasel-brat." He mocked.

"'Afternoon, ferret-prat." She tossed back.

He laughed. "Damn. I was hoping to get you that time; you look preoccupied."

She grinned ruthlessly. Draco though this looked particularly sexy on her, but he never would tell her that. He'd never told her that he liked her. He was content to spend time with her, and was elated when she devised a plan to meet with him after classes on Friday to work and hang out, and to hang out after classes on the weekend.

"You forget, Draco: my subconscious is twice as venomous as my conscious."

"Damn, that's venomous: make sure I never see your unconscious. I might just wet myself." He felt a pleased tug as she laughed. He loved making her laugh; her eyes sparkled when she laughed. The great thing was, she appreciated his humor. No one else did, besides Blaise, and he was busy with his little Gryffindor.

He would do anything to make her laugh. He only wished she liked him. Well, she did like him, but he wanted her to like him the way he liked her. But he was just a friend to her; she never showed any interest in him as anything else.

But as long as he could be around her, he was happy.

He sat down next to her. She didn't shift away like other people did; like he was a poisonous snake. Instead she settled in next to him, her shoulder touching his. He stiffened at her touch, but she didn't notice; she was opening her Charms book.

"Do you remember doing Collapsing Charms?" She asked.

Draco tore his gaze from her beckoning bare shoulder (her light jacket had slipped off it) and turned to the text book. "Yeah, you having trouble?" He asked.

She nodded. "I just don't understand the wand motions. I've got the incantation right, I just can't get the twist part." She explained, pulling out her wand and attempting to do the complicated movement: swish, twirl, jab, and flick.

Draco shook his head and pulled out his wand. He held it next to hers. "It's like this." He demonstrated slowly, showing her the precise movement. She stared hard at his wand and tried to imitate what he'd done.

Draco sighed and shook his head again, standing up. "Here, let me show you."

He walked around so he was right behind her and put his arms over her shoulders, reaching for her wand hand. He leaned forward, his face next to hers. He stole a sideways glance at her face. It was pulled into concentration. He looked down.

_Dear God!_ He squeezed his eyes shut and looked back to the wand. _Focus on the wand. Focus on the wand. Focus on the wand_. He couldn't believe it; he'd just looked down her shirt. She trusted him enough to let him get so close, and he had taken advantage of her trust in him.

"Uh…right. Erm, it's just…yeah…like this." He stammered taking her hand in his.

They practiced until she got it right and could do it on her own.

Draco sat back down in his seat. She was swishing her wand around delightedly.

"Oh, brilliant! Thank you so much Draco." She flicked her wand again.

He shuddered, loving the way she said his name. He'd never really liked his name; it sounded so old-fashioned, but when she said it, it sounded perfect.

"Nothing doing, Weasley. I'd hate to see you get detention for blowing up Flitwick or something like that." He sneered. She simply smiled.

"So, what got dear Mr. Tranquil's knickers in a twist?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.

Ginny cocked her head, putting her wand back. "Mr…? Oh, you mean Ron." She nodded and pulled a face. "That god damned bloody tosser!" She fumed, flushing to the roots of her hair.

Draco leaned in, startled. "What did he do?" He asked. There were few things that could get Ginny riled up. One was Harry, another was Fudge, her brothers were rather good at it, and the last was Draco himself, but only when he was being a prat.

"Thinks he can bloody well run my life! Stupid bugger! Someone told him I come in here all the time to meet with some guy. He got all pissed off, and wanted to know who it was. Well, I told him it was none of his god damned business. Fucking git said if I was going to go out with anyone, it would be Harry." She fumed, crossing her arms across her chest.

Draco nodded to himself. _Bingo_. Harry had been pestering Ginny for a week now; he'd broken up with his Hufflepuff girlfriend, and there was supposed to be a dance next month. She'd said 'no' first; she was sorry, but she wasn't interested anymore.

But he kept on at her. Draco listened to her tales with mounting anger; finally offering to go and pound his face in, to which Ginny had to regretfully decline.

Draco scowled now. "Damn it, Ginevra." He growled, making Ginny sit up. He rarely used her first name unless he was really mad at her, or really happy with her.

"What?"

"Why don't you want to go with Harry? I mean, you were after him for who knows how long; now he's finally gotten a pair of glasses that work and noticed you. Why not just go with him?" This was a dangerous question, but they never really talked about Ginny and Harry, and Draco was curious.

Ginny scowled, but didn't blow up at him. "Pretend, for one moment, you don't always get everything you want. Now, pretend that you've been pining away after someone for a long time." She stared at him.

_No need to pretend there._ He thought, staring at her with wanting. She missed his hungry glance.

"Well, pretend that you've finally gotten over that person. And then they come around and finally ask you out. What are you going to do, say yes and forget all the heartache they put you through?" She sat back. "I don't think so."

Draco bit his lip at how similar his problem was to hers with Potter.

She tilted back in her chair as he had in his. "Gods, my brother can be such a bastard sometimes!" She leaned her head back.

Draco was thinking, more about her than Potter. "Maybe Potter didn't know you cared for him." He said, voice dangerously low.

Ginny didn't bother to look up at him. Still staring up, she told the ceiling that Harry would have had to be utterly blind not to see, and besides, she'd heard her brother and Harry laughing over her infatuation.

Draco ground his teeth. "What would you have done if he hadn't known?" He asked.

Ginny finally sat up and looked at him; oddly. "I dunno. I probably would have asked him to go with me to Hogsmeade, or a dance, or something. You know, one of those euphemisms for 'I like you'." She shrugged.

Draco sat up suddenly, his mind made. He had to ask before he realized what he was doing and changed his mind.

"Hey, Weasley? Do you have a date-er, partner for the dance?" He asked.

She rolled her eyes. "No, Draco. Haven't you heard a single thing I've said? I don't want to go with Harry and no one else's going to ask me. The night of the dance I'm curling up in the common room with a cup of cocoa and a good book." She snuggled into her jacket at the thought of warmth and coziness.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, weasel, but you're going to the dance. Will you go with me?" He asked, trying to sound uninterested.

She sat straight up this time. "What?" She asked, cocking her head.

Draco grinned. "You heard me, weasel. D'you wanna go to the dance with me?"

She stared. "Why?" She asked, suddenly all suspicion.

He rolled his eyes. "Because I'm madly in love with you and want to spend the rest of my life with you." He said, mimicking her sarcastic words from two months earlier.

She laughed. "Bravo, Draco. Didn't think you'd remember that. But, seriously, why would you want to go to the dance with me?" She said, smile dropping slightly.

This was not like Draco she'd come to know in the past two months.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Because…well, I like you. A little more than as a friend, but I understand that that's all you want us to be. But, I don't know, I like your company and since you're not going with anyone else…I thought perhaps we could go together. It's not like it's some binding arrangement, it's just a dance." He said, at her questioning glance.

Her eyes were wider than he'd ever seen them. "Wait, back up. What was that part about you liking me? Or did I just imagine that?" She breathed, at loss for what to say.

Draco looked down at his shoes. "Well, for a Gryf, you're a really neat person, and…okay, look: you're pretty and nice, and damned well funny. You've got a great personality, and I just really like you." He shrugged.

"Doesn't mean you like ME that way, but hey, I can live with that." He sat, waiting for her response.

She just stared at him, or rather, as it looked to Draco, through him. Sirens were going off in her head, made worse by the dull buzzing in her ears. Everything had gone topsy-turvey. She didn't know what was up, and what was down.

This wasn't Draco. It couldn't be; he would never, even if he was feeling those things, tell her. "Wha-what?" She stammered, her mind thick; not really sure if she was just thinking it, or if she'd actually said it.

"D'you wanna go to the dance with me?"

Apparently she had.

Ginny opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her head started spinning. Words, phrases, emotions, went rampant through her mind faster than possible for her to process, leaving her speechless and dazed.

_Sure, I like Draco, hell I could even learn to love him; two months ago I could have easily kicked his ass with no bad feelings or remorse, and now he's practically my best friend. We spend more time with each other than I've done consecutively with any one person, family not included. Except perhaps Heather. But why does he want to go to the dance with me? I know why I like him, but why in God's name does he like me? Wasn't I just been a weird little friend who's fun just because I'm just different? What does he feel about me? He said he likes me, but what if it's just a trick? What if he's just screwing around, like I did when I kissed him? Gods, I wish I'd done something else; the kissing thing was so humiliating, and now I never know when he's serious because of it._

"Damn! Gods, I wish I'd never kissed you!" She thought. Or, at least, she had meant to think it.

Draco glowered at her. So much for honesty…

"Well, sorry, weasel. I didn't really have much say in that…it was all you, and gods, please, never do that again. Had to rinse my mouth out with a Scouring Spell twelve times before I could stop gagging. Still haven't cleansed it out enough." He rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth to prove his point.

Ginny bit her bottom lip. "Draco, I didn't mean it like that…"

He stood angrily and shoved away her comforting hand. "You know, I don't give a damn about what you think, Weasley. I asked you to the dance because I felt sorry for you. You're such an annoying bitch; no one else would want to go with you. Save it." He snapped, holding up his hand as she opened her mouth to say something.

"Last time I try to do you a favor, weasel."

Ginny's chin was wobbling precariously. For some reason, she didn't feel mad, but rather, an overwhelming regret. She reached up and touched his arm. "Draco, I'm sorry, you know I wouldn't say anything like that, I meant-"

He pulled his arm away from her and shoved her away. She stood up, actually angry now. He pushed her back down thoughtlessly. "Don't bother, wretch. I was just about to leave. You can go back to admiring Potter, now." He stormed off angrily.

Ginny sat, for what seemed like eternity in a second. Her perception of time left with Draco, and she sat, thinking of nothing and everything. Had anyone come to her secluded corner of the library, they would have seen her, half-seated, hand outstretched, as if caressing a ghost, staring off into endless space, for once, looking shaken.

"DAMNIT!" Draco yelled, kicking a rock into the lake. He stomped his foot down. "DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN!" He cursed, fuming hotly, looking murderous enough to send a pair of snuggling Ravenclaw fourth years running for another snog-spot.

"Why the hell did you tell her you liked her?" He hissed at himself, scowling at the nearest thing…a tree. Was it just his imagination or did that tree look like Ginny? _No! Damnit, Draco! Stop thinking about her. She obviously doesn't want anything to do with you, so just drop it!_

He spun around and sat, head in his hands. "I can't." He said softly to himself. Sighing, he leaned back and stared morosely out over the lake.


	4. Confusion of the Teenaged Mind

**Author's Note:** Okay, fourth chapter and these things are getting annoying. Um...Draco-Ginny angst and possibly the end of their relationship? Who knows? Oh, wait,...I do! HAHAHA! You don't know what's going to happen...until...you...read...this. Drat. Ok, so read this and enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** Same as the last few chapters, I'm tired of reiterating my words; it's so tedious and frankly redundant.

**Dancing Life **

**Chapter 4: Confusion of the Teenaged Mind**

**

* * *

**

By the time Ginny had made it up to the Gryffindor common room, it was late in the evening and most of the students were at dinner. Ginny wrapped her arms around her stomach and frowned softly. She sighed and sat down in a large chair by the fire, shivering slightly.

She couldn't force anything down, even if she'd wanted to.

"Ughhhhh…" She groaned wearily, putting her head in her hands, massaging the temples lightly. "Stupid git. Why did he have to go and fuck everything up?" She shook her head with the tips of her fingers. "Why did I have to go and fuck everything up? We were getting along so well, too." She moaned again, and threw herself back into the chair's deep recess, snuggling into the back.

"Well, I have no idea what you've done now, but if it has anything to do with the sudden temper tantrum a recently acquired Slytherin friend of yours is having, I'd say whatever you did was pretty bad."

Ginny sat up and whirled around in the chair. Peeking over the high back of the armchair, she sighed in relief. "Heather. Thank god it's you; I've had an awful day." She sunk back into the chair in defeat.

Heather moved around to the armchair in front of her red-headed friend. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was unwrapping a stunning silver scarf from around her neck.

"Go out to the lake with a certain good-looking Slytherin with gorgeous thick black hair, blue eyes, and last name rhymes with 'zucchini'?" Ginny teased.

Heather grinned, flushing slightly. "The only reason people go to the lake in the frigid, bitter winter months is to engage in activities that…warm…shall we say?" Ginny said, waggling her eyebrows at a quickly reddening Heather.

"Ginny!" She gasped, looking shocked. "You know I'd never do anything like that until I knew a guy better; maybe not even then, what kind of slut do you think-"

Ginny's laughter cut her off. "Hattie, really. I was talking about kissing. Guilty conscience?" She laughed.

Heather scowled. "Doesn't Blaise wish; and don't call me that. It's so immature and childish." She frowned at her nickname.

Ginny laughed again. "Right, not at all like you. So, you're head over heels for this guy, but still as sensible as ever." She cocked her head and smirked. "That's my girl!"

Heather rolled her eyes. "Right. So what's your tragic emotional crisis?" She asked, leaning comfortably against the back of the armchair.

Ginny frowned again. "Draco's acting downright odd and…well, I don't really know what's going on with him…" She trailed off, shaking her head in frustration. "Sometimes he can be such a complete ass. I have no idea what his problem is." She sighed.

Heather tilted her head. "What? Don't tell me you two had a lover's spat?"

Ginny scowled. "Very funny. We sort of had a falling out. I guess; I don't know, really, he just got mad all of a sudden." She shrugged, turning to Heather questioningly.

"Did you say something? Apparently, you two have been getting along fine for two months. Why the sudden blast of hatred?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know! Unless…" She bit her finger softly.

"Unless…" Heather prompted.

Ginny bit her finger again, then pulled her hand away from her mouth. "Right before he got mad…we were talking about Ron and Harry, and how they wanted me to go with Harry to the dance. I told Draco about my declination to Harry's less than generous offer. And he…asked me to the dance with him." She flushed.

Heather cocked an eyebrow. "Really? And so you two got in fight because…?" She waved her hands in a supporting manner.

Ginny's shoulders slumped exasperatedly. "I think; I'm not sure, but I think…oh, I don't know!" She half-screamed, jumping up and putting her hands to either side of her head. "Gods, why do things have to be so complicated? Why can't I ever just spend time with a guy without having things screw up? I hate this? We were having such a great time just being friends. Why did he…ugggghhhhhhh!" She screeched, flinging herself onto a long couch, burying her head in a pillow.

Heather restrained the nearly overwhelming urge to giggle; Ginny was rather funny when she flipped out.

"C'mon, Gin. It's Malfoy. How bad can having a fight with him be?" She laughed, then sobered as Ginny's face remained hidden.

"Gin? It IS just Malfoy, right?" Her dusky eyes widened. "You like him?"

"No!" Ginny's head popped up. "That's the problem. I think. Urgh! I don't know!"

She collapsed back on the pillow again. Heather sighed and got up. Moving around to sit on the arm of the couch at Ginny's head, she frowned. "Still a little fuzzy on the details. Why don't you just tell me what happened?"

Ginny propped herself up on her elbows. "Ugh, it's all so horribly confusing. Okay, first Draco and I were talking; normal conversation. Then it heads around to the dance. Before I know it, he's asking…no, telling me I'm going to the dance with him. And he said he liked me. But then I got all puzzled because I didn't know if he was serious, or just playing, or if he felt sorry for me…and everything was so loud and slow, but so deathly silent and momentary at the same time. I had no idea what was going on; it was like I wasn't in control of my body; I couldn't tell the difference between what I was thinking, and what I was saying. I dunno…I was thinking about that kiss, and wishing I'd done something less crushing, because now I never know if he's serious, or if he's just trying to get me back." She grumbled.

Heather's eyes were bulging from her head as she leaned even closer yet. "And…?!"

Ginny shook her head. "I guess I started thinking out loud; I said something like 'I wish I'd never kissed you', because you have to admit, if I hadn't, things would be a hell of a lot easier. But, then, he got really pissed off, and said some Malfoy-esque things." She frowned, tucking her arms under her chin.

Had Ginny looked up, not being lost in thought, she would have questioned Heather on the strange look the younger girl was giving her.

"Huh. Is that so? Uh, look, Gin; I've got to head down to the library for a moment. I won't be too long, I just forgot a book down there. Will you be alright on your own for a few minutes?" She rushed, starting to stand.

Ginny shrugged. "Yeah, I need to get up and stop feeling sorry for myself. It just doesn't make any sense." She muttered, sitting up.

Heather shook her head as she exited though the portrait hole. "Maybe not to you." She whispered to herself.

Draco was pacing the floor of the Slytherin common room, talking to himself in low mutters, and consequently scaring off all those who had wished to sit in the cozy area.

"What the bloody hell did you tell her for? You knew she was just playing around with that kiss; why'd you go and make it out to be some sign of affection? Well, why did she have to kiss me in the first place? What kind of stupid idea was that? You can't go around teasing boys like that; it's not right. What the-"

"Gods, Malfoy. If you want everyone in this house to know, as I do, that you're insane, please, continue talking to yourself. If not, why not talk to me instead?"

Draco whirled around. Blaise Zabini was leaning against a large marble column, smirking the famous Slytherin smirk.

Draco scowled at his fellow house member, and considered his best friend. "What the hell, Zabini? Why in the name of all that's evil, would I want to talk about my love life or lack thereof, with you?" He sneered.

Blaise laughed. "The great Draco Malfoy is having girl problems? Ha! That's too much. Oh, that's bloody brilliant, mate! So, who's the unfortunate girl? It's not Pansy, I know that much; she's been sulking around too much. It's none of the Ravenclaw girls; they're still mooning over you…" He blanched. "Please tell me you're not pining after some Hufflepuff fluff. I'll have to kill myself then and there, man."

Draco scowled. "I wouldn't be caught dead dating a Hufflepuff."

Blaise cocked his head. "A Gryf? You cannot be serious. Just a few months ago you were saying how pathetic my crush on Heather was, and now…you are a piece of work, Draco Malfoy." He stared at is friend in awe.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Please, Zabini. Don't make it sound like I'm some lovesick little boy; it's just a hot girl, that's all." He lied.

Blaise scoffed. "Yeah, right. You've been brooding about around here like someone canceled Christmas. You've made about five first years wet themselves; just tell the damn girl and spare us all the agony!" He got down on his knees, pretending to beg Draco for mercy.

Draco glowered at his groveling friend, pulling away the ends of his robes before Blaise tried to do something stupid. "Oh, like it's that easy." He snorted.

Blaise stood, giving Draco a hard stare. "Hey, Draco, mate, are you alright? Who's this girl that's gotten under your skin like this? You've never had problems with girls before, so…what's wrong?"

Draco shook his head. "I know I'm setting myself up for a berating or some other sharp reprimand from you, but…it's Ginny Weasley."

Blaise's jaw dropped. "What!? Are you out of your bloody mind?"

Draco scowled. "What's wrong with Ginny?" He asked roughly, eyes hardening.

Blaise was still staring at him, mouth hanging open. "But-but, you said…not a few months ago…talking about her and Heather, being unworthy because they're Gryfs, and…what the hell? Now you like her?"

Draco sighed, still scowling, and sunk onto the couch. "Blaise, how long have we known each other?" He asked warily.

"Since we were five."

"Remember how we used to share all our secrets; how our fathers beat us, and how our mothers hated us?"

Blaise nodded, sitting across from his pale friend.

"Sometimes, no, most of the time, you were the only one I could talk to. The only intelligent one, that is. We haven't talked like that since we were, what, thirteen?"

Blaise shrugged. "Guess there was never really a reason to talk anymore."

Draco slumped back into the couch. "There is now."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Look, Draco, this seems-" He broke off as the portrait hole for the Slytherin common room opened. Blaise glanced over Draco's shoulder. No one entered. The dark-haired boy stood and strode over to the painting, hanging open.

"That's odd." He said, shrugging as he closed the door.

He went back over to Draco. "Look, mate. I don't know what's going on, but if you tell me, I'll try to help."

Draco contained a small smile that threatened to creep from his lips. "Thanks, Za-Blaise." He corrected, then sat back. "Where did it all begin?" He asked himself.

He told Blaise everything. Though he'd never admit it, talking to Blaise about his problems always helped, and Draco had rather missed their late-night conversations. Draco told him about Ginny kissing him, how he felt, even though she didn't. How he was ecstatic when she wanted to be with him, but at the same time, how crushing it was that to her, he was just a friend.

"I told her I liked her today." He admitted.

Blaise stared. "And…?"

Draco scowled. "She was disgusted. I could see it. She wouldn't even look at me. She said she wished she'd never kissed me." He curled his hand into a fist. "Looked at me like I was a monster. The whole time, she was just playing with me. She never liked me, not even as a friend." He tightened his clenched hand. "Stupid bitch." He hissed.

Next thing he knew, he was on the floor. Draco put a hand to his cheek; he'd distinctly felt a hand hit his face. He looked around, but the only other person in the common room was Blaise, looking equally confused.

"No one dares talk about my friends that way."

Draco glanced up, at where the voice was coming from. He knew that voice; that soft, silky voice.

"Heather?" Blaise asked the air. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she appeared, head first, as something shimmery dropped to her feet. "The one and only." She smiled, stooping to pick up the Invisibility Cloak she'd snatched from Harry's room.

Draco, getting over the shock of having a Gryffindor girl appear out of nowhere in the Slytherin common room, scowled. "What the hell was that for, Rambinski?" He snarled, putting a hand to his numb cheek.

She whirled around and sat down unblinkingly on Blaise's lap. "First, as I said, you insulted, unjustly, my friend and yours. Secondly, you're being an idiot, and she's being an idiot, though I can't really hit her." She mused, leaning back against Blaise's chest.

Draco glared as he wrapped one arm around her middle, pulling her closer to him.

"Care to elaborate?" He sneered.

She nodded. "That's why I came; you two are so impossible. You both care for each other, even if you don't know it yet, and yet you'll both go about pretending you don't. It's sickening to have to stand by and watch."

She stared at him, hard. "Do you like her?" She asked, sharply.

Draco was taken aback. Who was she to ask him impertinent questions like that? Although his mind was forming a snide comment, his mouth had other ideas. "Of course I do." He said firmly.

Heather smiled a quick smile, showing off pointy white teeth. "Good. This makes things so much easier. Now, I know Ginny very well, so I think I'm right. I think she does like you, but…" She trailed off, seeming unsure of whether or not to go on.

Draco's look of exasperation urged her on. "But she's scared. Her love life hasn't been the best. First Harry, who ignored her, then she and Dean Thomas went out for a while, and he…wanted more than she would give" she had the Gryffindor decency to go a little pink "and then there was Colin and Seamus, but those were mostly just friendly experiments." She gave Draco an almost pleading look. "She's surrounded by so much love, but she's never felt it."

"What about me? I told her that I liked her! She just doesn't want me." He growled.

To his surprise, Heather got up and stood next to him. She touched his arm lightly. "She does, though she may not know it herself yet. She's just scared. She doesn't want to get hurt anymore." Taking in the blonde's skeptic look, she added: "Plus, she thinks you're just trying to get her back for that kissing incident. She wants for you to be serious, but she doesn't believe it's possible." She removed her hand from his arm, giving him a sad, sympathetic look. "So, just do what you must to make her see it is."

She walked back over to Blaise, who stood and glowered at her. "You…evil little witch, Going out and touching other boys so tenderly like that." He scowled.

Heather grinned and slid a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. "But I don't touch them like this." She pressed her lips softly to his, caressing his mouth with hers.

"Thank the gods for that." Draco muttered, causing them to break apart, laughing.

Ginny woke up Saturday morning. She moaned as she stretched in her bed, shivering faintly. She stood and glanced outside. It was snowing. Her eyes lit up and she hurriedly dressed for the cold.

It was early when she made her way down to the common room, and there was only one person in the room. She turned quickly, praying Harry hadn't seen her.

"Ginny!"

_Damn._

She turned back around to face him. "Morning, Harry." She said, smiling with some difficulty. She made as if to go back upstairs, but he caught her hand.

"Listen, Ginny…can we talk?" He asked, nervously. Ginny nodded wearily and followed him to the armchairs in front of the fireplace.

He sat down and eyed her. Ginny shuddered under his glance. She didn't like the way his eyes raked over her body, and she found only a little comfort in the heavy jacket and jeans she was wearing.

"Why won't you go to the dance with me, Gin? I know you like me, and you're a really cool person, so why don't you want to go with me?" He said, almost pouting.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry. You're a little too late. I waited six years for you to say that. Even when I was with Dean, and Colin, and Seamus, I was still waiting for you to come to me. To finally see me. I gave up, Harry. I couldn't wait for you anymore. Now that you're finally saying what I waited so long to hear, I just want to be like your little sister again." She shrugged, hating herself for causing pain to flash through those intense green eyes.

"You'll find your someone Harry. I'm sorry it wasn't me, but maybe it's for the best." She smiled softly, before whirling around and dashing out the portrait hole.

She ran all the way to the lake. Panting, and slightly out of breath, she stopped, standing just on the edge of the lake, where the water was frozen solid. Gazing out over the vast expanse of blue and white, she sighed. This was one of the few places that calmed her.

The close proximity to such natural beauty was breathtaking. She smiled to herself and sat down on a nearby flat rock, wiping a soft layer of snow from its surface.

"Ummm, Ginny?"

Ginny turned around. Damon Cartwright, a Ravenclaw seventh year, was standing in the snow next to her.

She smiled, for some reason, not feeling as nervous as she should have. He was rather good-looking, with his rugged features and warm brown eyes. He ran a hand through his short brown hair.

"D'you have a partner for the dance next month?" He asked, giving her a grin that was undoubtedly sexy, and should have made her flush, or go weak at the knees.

She did neither. "Not really. I wasn't planning on going." She shrugged, staring back out over the lake.

He frowned. She was practically ignoring him. He tried again. "I thought you might like to go with me." It was a statement, not a question.

Ginny rolled hr eyes, knowing he couldn't see her. She was about to tell him to go away and find some other girl when a new voice cut in.

"Sorry, Cartwright, she's going with me."


	5. Overrated Activities: Kisses with Draco

**Author's Note:** Woohoo! Fifth chapter in a row. Thank the gods for sugar and caffeine! Ok, since I'm uploading a butt-load of chapters at a time, I have no idea what people will think of this story, so I'm sorry if you see something wrong in the first few chapters that doesn't get changed for a while. Sorry. But would you rather I upload a chapter a week, or worse, not upload a chapter for like, a month? Eh? And the weird red-head curled up on my knee says to you: "I love my toes." and "Macbeth, you sodding little rotter." (Don't ask, my inspirational Muse and best friend is prone to odd behavior and random outbursts.)

**Disclaimer:** Obviously I haven't written the real Harry Potter books, or else I'd be working on the sixth book now. Everything you recognize from the books (and a few other things if you don't pay close attenion to detail) is J.K.Rowling's. All else belongs to me.

**Dancing Life **

**Chapter 5: Overrated Activities: Kisses with Draco Malfoy Definitely Excluded**

**

* * *

**

"_Sorry, Cartwright, she's going with me."_

_What the hell?_

Ginny whirled. Draco was approaching from behind them, looking none too pleased to see the roguishly handsome Ravenclaw Chaser standing where he was. The more muscled boy was looking similarly displeased, and somewhat triumphant.

"You're going with Malfoy? C'mon, you stupid twit. I'll take you. You're not too bad looking, aside from the fact that you're more than a little flat, but I'm willing to take you. You don't want to go with him." Damon protested, giving Draco a quick sneer.

Ginny bit her lip, refusing to flame at him, though she was feeling the most overpowering urge to pound his face into the ground. "…_more than a little flat?" What impertinence!_

"Sorry, Damon." She shrugged, then cocked her head to the side. "Actually, that's a lie, I'm not sorry. I'm having loads of fun bursting your over-engorged ego bubble." She smiled sweetly at him. "I'd much rather go with Draco than you." She smiled sweetly and (if insincerely), apologetically at him. "And that's saying something. Especially concerning your supposed 'charms' and Draco's undoubtedly ferret-like nature."

Draco scowled and rolled his eyes at her, trying not to laugh at the pure shock and disbelief coursing through the other young male at Ginny's spiteful words. _And I'm a narcissist?_ He thought smugly.

The dark-haired boy stared back and forth between Draco and Ginny, as if trying to believe that a girl (and not even a good-looking one at that) would prefer the pale thin (albeit somewhat handsome) Slytherin to him. He shook his head. "Whatever. You're throwing away the biggest chance for a lifetime for some guy who just wants to get in your pants. Maybe that's what you want. Slut." He murmured, turning to leave.

Ginny stood, ready to hit him, but Draco got there first. He spun the other boy around, oblivious to the fact that he outweighed him by at least twenty pounds. He dealt Damon a stinging blow to the nose.

Ginny winced. Even from where she was standing, she could hear the snap of his nose breaking. Draco stood back, admiring his work and shaking his hand slightly as the cocky git doubled over. "Owww! Fuck! I tink do boke by dose!" He shrieked, holding a hand to his nose, which was starting to blossom blood. "Da Hedbaster bill hear 'bout dis!" He yelled, shaking his fist at Draco.

The pale blonde merely smiled toothily at him. "Do that. It'll give me the perfect time to tell the dear old bat about the fact that you tend to have more company in your bed than is allowed usually." He grinned again as the boy went a ghostly white color. "Don't do dat." He pleaded, hand still at his nose.

"Then get your sorry arse out of here and leave Weasley alone."

Damon didn't need to be told twice. He sped off, not looking back once. The scrawny red-headed bitch wasn't worth it.

Draco sneered. She was better off without that creep; even he treated her better than Damon had in his short 'conversation' with Ginny.

Draco turned back to the unusually quiet red-head. To his surprise, she was glaring at him. "Not that I don't appreciate your help, Draco, but who I go to the dance with is not really any of your concern. Nor will I have you telling me that I'm going with you. I'll go with who I please, or not at all!" She fumed, not saying that she wanted to go to the dance with the same person he wanted her to go with: him.

Draco sighed. Now was as good a time as any. He strode over to where she was standing, taking her roughly in his arms. She struggled , but to no avail; her arms were pinned at her sides. "Let go!" She hissed, uncomfortably aware of how close his face was to hers.

"Fine. Now I'm asking you. Seriously. Ginny, will you go to the dance with me?"

She wriggled again, and looked away from him. "Not a chance in hell, Draco. You've already accomplished embarrassing me; we're even. You don't have to pretend like this anymore. Just let me go." She whispered, biting back tears. _What the hell? What am I crying for? _She thought to herself.

Draco bit his lip, hoping to god that Heather was good at reading her friend's feelings.

Before she could stop him, he leaned in, his lips seeking hers. She flailed wildly in his arms, refusing to open her mouth; her lips clamped tightly shut. He put a hand to her cheek, stroking it gently.

She stopped writhing. She kept her mouth shut, but for some reason, the idea of kissing him wasn't as repelling as she'd thought. She'd already done it once.

Draco's arms encircled her slender waist, pulling her to him. Her hands pushed momentarily at his chest, but she didn't fight. It felt too good, the way she fit perfectly up against him. Warmth radiated all over her. She hesitantly brought her hand up to the back of his neck, toying with his hair.

He pulled his lips from hers, still pursed shut. "If you don't kiss me I may have to hurt you." He warned. "Although, causing you pain isn't the way I want to touch you." He grinned implicatively at her.

Ginny scowled and opened her mouth to say something, but she didn't get the chance. As soon as her lips parted, Draco's were on them. She gasped. Unlike their first kiss, this was one she felt, tugging at her very center. This time, she wasn't likely to be quite so unaffected.

She knew she shouldn't, that simply standing here, not doing anything was going against everything she'd ever been taught, but she couldn't let her lips leave his. It felt like the world was balancing on their tongues, and if they left the comfort of each other's mouths, the entire fabric of the universe would unravel in chaos.

So she kissed him back. Draco moaned into her mouth as her tongue sought out every corner of his mouth, probing gently, almost inquisitively. He pulled away, nipping at her lower lip. She inhaled sharply. He looked up at her, starting to pull back, but she pulled him closer.

"Don't stop." She whispered, before his mouth covered hers again.

She was the one who pulled away after that, but only to line kisses along his jaw. He shuddered at her touch. She was so amazing. Draco had never, in his entire life, felt more alive than he did at that moment, their arms and lips linking each other together.

His lips, numb thought they were, missed her touch. She trailed kisses down his neck, and up to his ear. Draco grabbed her face in his hands and pulled her lips back to his. His tongue thrust between her soft, welcoming lips. Suddenly, all Ginny's emotions (the hate, anger, pain, and betrayal from her previous loves, and the tender, innocent love she'd always wished for) let loose, focusing totally on Draco.

Not noticing the tears springing from the corners of her eyes, she wrapped her arms tighter around Draco's neck. Her chest shook, and her arms trembled. His lips left hers. "Ginny?" He asked, startled to see tears streaking her face. Had he hurt her?

She buried her head in his shoulder. "Just kiss me, okay, Draco?" She asked, hating how weak and theatrical it sounded. His heart, on the other hand, soared. He leaned down and kissed her. This time, it was a caressing, sweet kiss, and he sucked at her bottom lip, reveling in the taste of her moist skin. She sighed delightedly into his mouth. His hands ran through her hair, entangling them in her shining strands of red hair.

His lips skated over her skin, kissing warmth into her chin, cheeks, and nose. "Gods, Ginny. I've wanted to do this since you first kissed me." He whispered hoarsely into her neck.

Ginny leaned back, looking up at his face. His normally pallid cheeks were flushed, and Ginny could see the traces of her kisses along them. His half-lidded silver eyes stared down at her greedily, but it warmed rather than disgusted, knowing that she was needed, not lusted for. She lifted herself up onto her toes and placed a kiss on his forehead.

He wasn't ready for her to go yet. He took her lips again, kissing them until she couldn't feel them anymore. "Draco." She mumbled, her voice low and husky. "If you don't stop soon, I think they're going to fall off." Draco arched an eyebrow. She rubbed her swollen lips, smiling up at him.

"What was that for?" She asked, licking her lips, frustrated that all she could think about was how bereft her skin felt without his touch.

He unwrapped his arms from her waist and walked over to the stone she'd been sitting on earlier. She followed. He sat down and motioned for her to sit. She made as if to sit down next to him, but stopped. Grinning at her own audacity, she sunk down softly into his lap.

He looked surprised, but rather pleased. He wrapped his arms around her waist once again, burying his face in her shoulder. "Draco. What was that for?" She asked, more insistent this time.

He drew his face from her neck. "Would it be too melodramatic to say that I fell for you from the moment you kissed me?" He whispered into her ear.

Ginny giggled. "Yes, it would. Drama king." She hissed playfully before losing herself to another deep kiss. Right now, it didn't really matter why Draco wanted to be with her. The only thing that mattered was that he did.

Ginny broke away from his lips. Her heart was pounding, in her throat and head. "Merlin, Draco." She breathed, for lack of something to describe what she felt at that moment. She turned around to face him, her legs to either side of his.

Ginny leaned in to press her lips to his, as so to express her feelings. Draco put his hand between their faces. "D'you realize just how provocative our position is right now?" He grinned, putting his hands on her hips.

Ginny sat back, blushing. "Sorry, I didn't think-" She felt so flustered, and began to stand up. Draco pulled her back down onto his lap. She overbalanced and fell against his chest. She was surprised to feel his heart beating erratically underneath his soft black sweatshirt.

She looked up at him and he grinned down. "Not that I mind. I'd love to be in an even more provocative position with you, preferably in the comfort of my room," she went a deep shade of red, hoping he was just teasing "but, I just wanted to give you fair warning." He stared down at the red-head in his lap, afraid that if she moved any closer, he might lose all sense of control and touch her in some way she might not like.

She cocked her head. "What on earth are you talking about? Fair warning?" She queried.

He grinned down at her and she swallowed. This grin was similar to the one Damon had given her, but this time, Ginny felt her heart flip-flop, and was glad she wasn't being supported by her own trembling limbs.

"I might just do something you may find reason to deck me for if you get any closer." He said warningly, though his tone held a playful lilt.

Ginny's jaw dropped even lower. Her eyes widened as a rosy pink tiny flushed through her cheeks. "Oh!" She breathed softly.

He stared fixedly at her partially open lips. Too tempting. He pulled her closer to him. She gave a single, tiny gasp as her lips met his. Their chests were crushed against each others, and his arms were snaking up and down her lower back, smashing her body against his.

Fire spread through Ginny. Her body felt feverish and hot to the touch. Everywhere he touched her tingled with heat. Her skin felt aflame. His tongue pushed insistently between her lips, seeking hers. It slid across the inside of her lip, touching, feeling, tasting.

He felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. She pushed back his tongue to explore his mouth, and her gentle inquisitiveness was completely undoing him, and all the emotions he'd repressed for her. He moaned as her fingers massaged little circles in his neck.

He tried to pull her even closer, frustrated that she could only meld against his body so much. A deep groan of want and desire bubbled from within him as she arched her body against his. He grasped her waist, pulling her against him. She shuddered.

He pulled his lips from hers. "Are you cold?" He asked, concerned.

She looked at him, his eyes grey eyes bare inches from her own startled brown ones. "What? No. Actually-" she flushed, staring down at her hand where it rested on his chest. "I feel bloody hot." Indeed, her forehead and cheeks were burning and her entire body felt on fire, as if some unknown, subtle flame was coursing through her limbs, setting every nerve, every muscle aflame.

Draco grinned; he knew the feeling. His normally cool hands were hot and sweaty; a fact he tried to cover by wiping them hastily on his pants. "Glad to know I have an effect on you." He breathed.

Ginny scowled playfully at him. "Hope your kissing is better than your modesty." She quipped, poking him lightly on the chest.

Draco stared down at the sweet creature in his lap. He knew she wasn't overly pretty; that her features were too irregular and sharp; that her body wasn't really that great, but he didn't care. No one would ever look at her the way he did.

She wasn't cute, pretty, or even beautiful. But she was stunning, and to Draco, she was the most gorgeous thing he'd ever laid eyes (and now, lips and hands) on, and he didn't care about admitting it. One thing he prided himself on was his ability to recognize (and usually hide) any emotion of his, and this was no exception. It didn't mean he'd ever tell her what he was coming to terms with in his mind and, yes; heart. He cared for her.

She brought him back to reality. "But, I guess I'll just have to find out."

Her lips where on his again, but this time, it was all Draco could do not to attack her and jump her to the ground. Oddly enough, it wasn't from passion or lust, though those were slightly present. Who would have thought that the tenderness and want displayed in a single, soft kiss could undo so complex and cold a person as Draco Malfoy?

Strange though it was, it did. Draco pulled his arms up around her back, sliding her closer to him. Their movements were slow, but deliciously satisfied. Ginny sighed contentedly into his mouth, bringing her arms up around his neck. They hung there so perfectly.

They finally broke apart, some time later. Draco stared down at her as (turning around to lean back on him) she sighed again, that soft, feminine, uncharacteristic sound that was more crushing (and rendered him completely helpless against her) than a low, seductively sexy moan. Though, from her lips, that might sound good, too.

Briefly pondering how to coax said sound from her, he nearly jumped as someone bounded around the corner, laughing.

"Jesus, Blaise. Give a bloke a heart attack." Draco exhaled deeply.

Blaise and Heather rounded the hedge that separated Ginny and Draco from the regular path. Blaise's arm was around Heather's waist, resting there comfortably. Ginny hid a smile as Draco imitated the hold, wrapping an arm around Ginny's slender waist, pulling her back against his chest.

"Hey Ginny, hey Malfoy." Heather crooned in her low, silky voice. Draco shuddered. That voice could give a guy nightmares. It was nice and all, but a little creepy. Didn't barely compare to Ginny's strong, sure voice. But, apparently, Blaise liked it.

Draco nodded at her. "It's Draco." He said.

She smiled. "Draco. Heather." She said, indicating herself.

Ginny smiled. She loved it that these two unlikely couples from two completely opposite houses were getting along, not only with themselves, but each other.

Blaise looked startled to see Ginny and Draco in such close, comfortable proximity, but he simply smiled to himself and pulled Heather closer to him. "Looking awfully comfortable there, Draco. Got any room for a couple more?"

Draco scowled as Blaise and Heather sunk to the stone next to where Draco was sitting with Ginny on his lap. Blaise sat and gently lowered a hesitant Heather onto his lap, where she sat stiffly, like an obedient child.

Ginny shot her a glance from where she was sitting, sprawled across Draco's body. Heather smiled and shifted so her back was against Blaise's chest. Both girls sighed appreciatively.

Blaise arched an eyebrow at Draco and stared pointedly at the red-head cradled comfortably in his arms. Draco bit back a proud, possessive grin and gave Blaise a confidant wink.

"So, Draco mate. Are you taking Wea-Ginny to the dance?" Blaise asked.

Draco smirked. "Um, well…I don't know. I asked her, but we got rather busy with something else…" He trailed off, aware that Ginny was flushing noticeably.

Heather gave Ginny a wicked grin. "I was wondering where all that steam was coming from; you two must have been melting the snow, you were producing so much heat. Now, what could you have been doing to give off that much heat, I wonder…?"

Ginny blushed and put her face in her hands. Draco smirked down at her, before moving his gaze back to the small, dark Gryffindor. "I seem to remember you and Blaise getting a little steamy the other day in the hallway…" Draco began, giving them both a completely unbelievable innocent look.

Ginny snorted and shot her friend an amused look as Heather flamed. Blaise merely grinned and gave Heather's side a teasing little pinch.

Draco grinned. This was nice, considering he was sharing it with two Gryffindors; a Weasley and a half-blood. No taunts, no teases, no stiffness, no awkward mentions of fathers, mothers, Death Eaters, or the Dark Lord. Just casual fun. Everyone was joking around, blissfully oblivious to the fact that they were defying what were practically school rules! Gryffindors and Slytherins didn't get along. Neither, for that matter, did Malfoys and Weasleys. Everything was mixed-up, but if things were going to be like they were now, Draco honestly didn't mind, or care, that things were out of the ordinary.

As if to prove the point, at least to himself, he buried his face in the hair that curled just below her ears. She moaned softly, pressing against him. Heather's suppressed grin broke loose.

"My, we are cozy, aren't we Ginny? Blaise, maybe we should go, I think we were interrupting something here." She said smoothly.

Blaise reflected her surprise and pleasure at the look Draco was giving Ginny. "Things seem to have developed a lot since we last saw you, Draco. Damn. We're going to leave you two to each other, but Ginny, promise you'll take it easy on him. Being around attractive girls who like him is a new experience for him."

He laughed as Draco glowered darkly at him.

"That's not true." Heather protested.

Draco turned to the smaller girl. "Well, thank you, Ra-Heather." He corrected. "See, Blaise, she's nicer to me than you are, and you're supposed to be my best mate." He glared at the dark boy again as he and Heather stood.

Heather gave Ginny a wicked wink and turned back to Draco one last time. "Being around ANY girl has got to be a new experience for you, Draco." She and Blaise left, to their own laughter, accompanied by Ginny's.

It took several minutes for Ginny to calm down. As her fit subsided, she glanced guiltily up at Draco. He stood abruptly, and she nearly fell to the ground. She stood and glared.

"What the hell, Draco? It was all in good fun, you didn't hav-" Draco cut her off, tackling her to the ground. Ginny let out a soft gasp in exclamation as they rolled around in the snow.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that, Draco!" She yelled, grabbing a handful of snow and advancing on him menacingly. He laughed up at her from where he was laying in the snow.

Ginny tossed the ball at him. It hit his shoulder harmlessly. He leered up at her. "Missed." He mocked.

She flew at him, jumping roughly on him, regardless of certain anatomy parts. Draco hastily readjusted her. She stared softly down at him, as she was now sitting on his stomach.

He placed his hands delicately on her hips. She smiled softly and leaned in to kiss him. Closer…closer…closer…

"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" Draco screamed in anguish as she smashed his face with a ball of slushy snow. He spat it out of his mouth, glaring half-heartedly up at her. She laughed.

"Thanks a lot, Ginny, now I've got snow in my mouth." He stuck his tongue out, which was numb with cold. Ginny grinned and scooted forward. "Let me help." She purred softly in his ear.

Before he caught her meaning, her lips were once again, pressed on his. He immediately felt the heat from her warm, sweet lips melting the snow in his mouth. He swallowed quickly and kissed her back, reaching down.

Ginny's smile turned to a gasp as he shoved a handful of snow down her back. She leapt up, screeching, trying to get the icy cold substance from out of her shirt.

"You prat!" She yelped, failing miserably to keep the warm grin off her face. Draco stretched out in the snow, looking extremely like a cat lazing about. "I must remember to shove snow down your back more often; you look incredibly amusing dancing around in the snow like that." He leered up at her.

Ginny's eyes widened and put a hand to her mouth. "Dancing…oh, gods, Draco…dance class! We're going to be late. I forgot all about it! I'm gonna kill Heather, she didn't say a thing." She clenched her small fist.

Draco laughed, glancing down negligently at his silver wristwatch. "Relax, Weasley, we've got plenty of time." He got to his feet, wiping snow from his pants.

Ginny turned from him, her head spinning. Dance class…that meant going back to the real world. So much had happened since she came outside that morning. She and Draco…what would happen once they got back to Hogwarts? Would they go on as they always had? Malfoy loathing Weasley, Weasley hating Malfoy?

She felt a strong hand on her hip. "Ginevra?" Ginny shivered. Her name sounded so good coming from him. Soft, tentative, wanting. She turned to face him. "What's going to happen, Draco? To us, I mean? Are we going to go around like we hate each other, or…?" She trailed off, hoping for a better alternative.

Draco's eyes darkened. "Do we hate each other?" He asked, voice dangerously low.

Ginny's eyebrows furrowed together. "What kind of question is that?" She asked, her stance growing defensive, putting her hands on her hips and staring up at him.

Draco put a chilled hand to her cheek. "Do you hate me?"

What the hell, Draco? You know she doesn't, why are you pushing it? A voice screamed in his head. Another voice, a small, timid, one asked if maybe he wasn't sure. No, that's stupid. Of course she doesn't hate me. Ah, yes, but you don't know how she does feel about you. The other voice said smugly.

Draco frowned at his inner debate. Ginny's eyes reflected her disappointment, though remained stingingly dry. "D'you really think I would be here, kissing you, of all people, if I hated you?" She asked, softly.

So softly.

Draco did his best to scowl, though his heart was thudding painfully in his ribcage. She liked him. She actually liked him. How naïve. Although it was what he wanted. How could someone like her fall for someone like him? How could anyone fall for someone like him?

He looked down at her, her face flushed, eyes deep with trust and understanding.

Draco really did scowl. For some reason, her blind faith in him irked him to no ends.

"What do you mean, 'you of all people'?" He asked, icily.

Ginny sighed, shoulders dropping. Why did they have to fight? They were getting along so well, and then…

"You know what I mean, Draco. It's not like our families are best friends or anything like that. They've been bitter enemies for who knows how long, as have Slytherin and Gryffindor. But…just so you know…" she looked up at him with a pained look in her big doe brown eyes "I wouldn't be here if I didn't like you, more than just a little."

She turned away from him, the long-awaited tears finally arriving.

Draco reached out and grabbed her arm, but gently. "Hey, Ginny." She turned around, looking down at her feet, suddenly finding them fascinating. Draco cupped her chin up with his finger, forcing her gaze up to meet his.

He pulled back his hand is if she'd bitten him. Her eyes were misty with tears, several threatening to spill over. "Oh, Jesus Christ, Ginny. I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Look, I'm…not really good at talking to people…"

"Without putting in some acerbic, Draco-like remark." Ginny said bitterly.

Draco couldn't believe it; he'd nearly made her cry. If he'd gone any farther, he could have lost her. And for what? Because he was being a bastard?

Draco sighed and pulled her into a hug. His breath hitched when she put her arms around his waist and squeezed. His arms tightened around her almost painfully. To his surprise, he felt something tugging inside his chest, and he felt, for the first time in ages, like he

would like nothing better than to sit down and cry. On Ginny's shoulder.

She was all he had anymore; his only real reason to enjoy life. And he'd nearly lost her, after having just found her, because of some stupid fear that she didn't like him. She was a Gryffindor, and a Weasley. He should have known better than to question her feelings.

"I'm sorry." He whispered into her hair, pulling her closer against him. Ginny's ribs were bruising, and felt like they were cracking. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to force air into her lungs. "I'm sorry." He said again, his breath lower and huskier.

Ginny took a deep, shuddering breath, her chest arching against Draco's to get air. "Draco. I can't breathe." She whispered hoarsely. He let her go, but only a tiny bit, his head still buried in her neck. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He chanted, voice cracking more with each word.

Ginny pulled away. "Draco, what…?" She trailed off. "Never mind." She breathed, encircling his back with her long arms, stroking his hair like one would a small child.

_Draco was in Malfoy Manor. He was six. He was standing in front of his parents' room, late at night. Loud noises had woken him up from the deep slumber of a boy. Cradling a plush green snake in his arm, he stepped toward the door._

_A deafening crash echoed from the other side of the room. Draco stood on the tips of his toes and opened the door, pushing gently on the handle. "Mum?" He asked, trying to see into the seemingly endless dark._

_The dark frightened him. He hated it more than anything, His father made him sleep in the complete dark; no lights, no magical illuminating toys, nothing. He was alone. He could sometimes feel the blackness breathing around him, crushing him with each breath._

_His mother, showing an uncharacteristic kindness towards him, had given him a tiny Snitch toy for his birthday. If you said the right word, it would light up with a faint gold gleam. It wasn't much, but it was comforting._

_Draco stepped further into his parents' room. A muffled weeping noise was coming from the corner. "Mum?" He asked again, softer._

_He pulled out his tiny gold Snitch for his pajama pocket. "Slytherin." He whispered, in his infantile, youthful voice. The golden globe lit up, casting a wavering light on the huddling form of his mother, rocking back and forth on the floor._

_Even from the soft light cast on her profile, Draco could see the blood seeping from her nose and two cuts on her lip and eyebrow. "Mum!?" His voice squeaked as he knelt down beside her. "Did father do this?" he asked innocently._

_Narcissa Malfoy smirked wryly, blood flowing from the crack in her lip once more. "Oh, he did this all right." She sucked in her breath, along with a small amount of blood. Coughing indelicately, her shoulder shook._

_Tears sprung to Draco's eyes. He knew neither his father nor his mother loved him, but at least his mother pretended to care for him. She was the closest thing to love he'd ever felt. He reached out a hand to touch her. _

_She batted it aside. "Go away, child. You won't help me, and it won't do me or you any good if Lucius found you here. Get out." She commanded, brushing back a strand of silky silver hair, pointing to the door._

_Draco backed away, his eyes large. "GO!" Narcissa yelled, for once forgetting to talk low and silky-smooth, like all proper ladies do._

_Draco turned and fled, running as fast as his short legs would take him. He ran all the way back to his room, slamming the door shut. He fell against the wood of his door as he heard the slamming of another door, far off in the mansion, and the sound of his mother's cries. _

_Draco slid down to sit on the floor. He couldn't stop his father. He couldn't help his mother. Resignedly, he did the one thing he could do. He cried._

Draco wrapped his arms tighter around Ginny, needing the comforting reassurance of love and her solidity more than ever. She ran a hand over his back, rubbing it soothingly, all the while making soft, gentle noises in the back of her throat.

"Shh, Draco. It's all right; you don't have to be sorry anymore." She whispered peacefully, rubbing the back of his neck.

It took the slim blonde several minutes to realize that he was crying. He pulled away quickly, disentangling himself from her arms. She looked up at him, startled as he wiped tears from his eyes.

His hand swept across his eyes, his movements getting jerkier, faster, more urgent. He rubbed his fists desperately in his eyes. "Damnit!" He yelled, throwing his fists down.

Ginny glanced up at him, worriedly reading the anger, sadness, and frustration in his eyes. "Draco, what?"

He grit his teeth. "I'm a fucking Malfoy!" He screamed, not caring if anyone else heard him. "Malfoys don't cry! We don't show emotion! Not sadness, not pain, not regret, not happiness, not frustration, not defeat! We can't let anyone see what's going on in our heads! We don't cry! We just don't! And we definitely don't cry in front of stupid, innocent little Weasley Gryffindors." He hollered, slamming his fist into something.

Ginny inhaled sharply. That 'something' was her shoulder. Draco looked up, his eyes saddening again. "Jesus, Ginny, I didn't mean to…"

She cut him off, silencing him with her finger. "Draco. Do me a favor. Shut up." He closed his mouth immediately. So she continued. "That's terribly pathetic." She ignored the amazed, almost angry look her threw her. "Not showing your emotions because it's supposed to make you stronger, better? That's sad, Draco. No wonder you're crying. I can't imagine never crying during my childhood. I'd guess you've got gallons of tears to make up for all the years you denied them."

She cocked her head. "D'you know, not crying or displaying anything, any emotions whatsoever; I think that's awfully weak." She put her entire hand over his mouth, as he'd begun to open it in retaliation.

"Hear me out. You shove all your feelings, all the things that define you as even semi-human, into a tiny corner of your heart. And don't you dare argue with me, Draco Malfoy; you do too have a heart. A pleasantly good one. But instead of facing your problems and reacting as you should, you push aside your emotions so you don't have to deal with them? That's just wrong."

She pressed her thumb to his cheek, tracing a wet streak down the stubbly surface. "No one's here but me, Draco. And you know how I feel. Go ahead." She nodded, pulling him against her chest.

And he cried. Long and hard, weeping bitter, 'manly' tears.

Ginny cradled him sympathetically against her. While she could barely imagine the emotional inner turmoil he was going through, it must be excruciating, especially for him; but at the same time, it didn't keep her heart from flying up to her throat. He was crying…in front of her.

She now realized why her mother was always there for her and her brothers. Comforting someone, knowing that you alone are sharing their grief, and are doing whatever you can to appease that sorrow, was astounding.

After a minute or two, Draco struggled out of her embrace. He felt utterly disgusted with himself. But, looking up at Ginny, all he felt was elation. The look on her face was so delicious, he thought he might jump on her.

She was staring up at him, smiling. Not sneering, or smirking, but smiling gently and knowingly. Her eyes, amber-brown and as always, expressive, reflected pride, happiness, and…though he had little expertise in the area,…what appeared to be love.

"That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" She asked, softly.


	6. Ramifications, Rectifications, and Recon

**Author's Note:** Yes, a chance to use my intensified vocabulary in the chapter title. Hoohah! OK, chapter 6, and...erm...ooh...love scenes. Really mushy and gross, but no sex or anything even remotely close. Just over-stressed sexually frustrated teens. Magical ones, mind you. But, yeah. I really hope anyone who reads this likes it. Ejoy! (Spelled like that purposefully.)

** Disclaimer:** Not mine, unless it is. Like the last... what? Five chapters?

**Dancing Life **

**Chapter 6: Ramifications, Rectifications, and Reconciliations**

**

* * *

**

Draco grinned, though wearily; partly from the lassitude of crying for the first time in years, and partly from the fact that he'd just seen love flash through the eyes of the girl he liked. Well…perhaps more than just liked…

Gods, he hadn't felt this exhausted in ages. Quidditch didn't even wear him out this much. Ginny slipped an understanding arm around his waist, wincing slightly as her bruised shoulder touched his side.

"Tired?" She asked, a small grin slipping between her lips.

Draco grinned wryly. "How'd you…? Forget it. With six older brothers, you've probably had more than your share of crying." He smiled down into her

She turned to him, encircling his waist with her arms. "Draco, I want to say sorry for everything I've done lately, and I'd love to go to the dance with you…" She broke off.

"But…" Draco flinched. It was coming- the gentle, Gryffindor brush-off. Why had he shown her his weakness? "…I'm not going to the dance." She said softly, smiling up at him. He scowled.

"What the hell are you grinning at? Gods, and I though you cared for- never mind that." He sneered, more to himself than her.

Ginny frowned and smacked him upside the head. He glared at her. "What was that for?" He yelled. Ginny laughed. "For being a prick. You stupid git." She muttered under her breath. "I'm not going to the dance because on the night of the dance, I expect to be curled up in front of a fire…" she leaned in to place a kiss on his nose "with you."

She laughed out loud at his startled expression. "Dances are overrated. Besides, the common rooms will be empty, and I can't think of anything I'd rather do than avoid everyone else in the school and spend a night with you. Real quality time." She smiled.

"Well, perhaps Blaise and Heather might be interested in my plan. I actually like him." She commented dryly. "For a Slytherin, he's not that bad."

Draco couldn't help but grin. She really was something. In the short couple of hours since he'd first approached her, they had fought, kissed, kissed some more, played around, fought, cried, fought, cried, kissed again…it was an endless and dizzying cycle. He hadn't cried since that night, eleven years ago, and now, because of one girl, he was crying again. By gods, he was pathetic. His grin changed to a frown. This wasn't good; she had a hold on him. He never liked losing control of his emotions; could he really get along with a girl who encouraged him to do so?

Ginny turned to him. "Draco?" She asked, hesitantly.

He looked down at her, and she recoiled from his glance. "D-Draco?" She whispered shakily. He looked angry, resentful.

Draco scowled. Why was she scared of him? It's not like he was some monster that was going to rip her head off. What, had he sprouted horns and grown fangs?

"Yes, Weasley?" He asked bitterly.

Ginny shifted out of his grasp, glaring at him. "What the bloody hell is your problem?" She fumed, hands on her hips again in the angry housewife stance she'd picked up from her mother.

Draco rolled his eyes. "What do you think, Weasley? I was stupid to cry. I never cry, I-"

Ginny whirled around and stormed off, not bothering to listen to the rest of his sorry statement. She'd told him it was alright, but he just wouldn't accept it. _Stupid bloody tosser_. She thought, chest tight as she stomped through the front doors, shaking snow off her.

She stamped angrily down a hallway; not really caring where she was going. She just wanted to get away from HIM for a while. He was such a moron! _Oh well,_ she thought shrugging her shoulders as if trying to rid him from her mind. _If he's too stupid to realize I did him a favor, he can just piss off. Stupid bugger has to be so self-consciously…masculine. Boys are so idiotic._ She fumed, kicking a laughing suit of armor vindictively in the shins. "Shut it, you!" She yelled.

She stormed, flaming angry, up a corridor towards dance class. She arrived outside the door early; no one was there yet. She knocked tentatively on the door.

"Come in." Skye called.

Ginny pushed open the door. Skye was placing Christmas decorations from all over the world. Her hair was, once again, a different color. This time, it was a festive bright green, matching her velvety cloak. She turned from where she was hanging a Russian candle on the ceiling.

"Ah, hello Ginny. How are you?" She asked amiably, setting the candle to the ceiling with a flick of her wand. She turned back around, facing Ginny once more.

Ginny sighed feebly and picked up a small gold ball. Levitating it up to the ceiling, she smirked wryly. "Terrific." She said sarcastically.

Skye smiled, untangling a strand of red berries. "Really? Seemed like you and Draco had a bit of a disagreement."

Ginny's jaw dropped. This woman was more observant than Dumbledore!

"H-how did you know?" She stammered, the gold ball dropping a foot before she regained her concentration.

Skye grinned. "Well, aside from the fact that I've known for the past two months that you two would finally get together…" she grinned even more wryly "…and you sure did take a right proper time getting about it; but after that scene in the snow, it doesn't take a seer to know that you two had a fight."

Ginny sighed and attached the shining sphere to the stone roof. "Yeah, we did. But…how did you see…?" She broke off, shaking her head as she flew a small silver bird to hang in midair. She stood for a moment, watching the magical creation flex its wings experimentally before soaring about the room.

Skye smiled, twirling the strand around the edge of the room. "Besides that the window in my office directly overlooks the edge of the lake…I could hear practically every word you two shouted." She frowned. "Needless to say, as soon as I realized the nature of the conversation, I backed away immediately and shut my window."

She gave Ginny a wide-eyed innocent glance. "But, naturally, the way you two were screaming at each other, I did hear a little of your conversation. By the way, you should try out for a choir: you've got quite the set of lungs on you, as does dear Mr. Malfoy."

Ginny laughed readily; after her quarrel with Draco, she needed a lighter mood.

"Mmmmm, so you heard everything?" Ginny mused, almost stating it rather than asking.

Skye shook her head. "Of course not. I wasn't trying to hear your conversation-" she paused, looking thoughtful "-hard," she added ruefully "I only heard a few bits here and there. Not enough to actually know what precisely went on between you two; just enough to get the idea that you weren't too happy with each other."

"That's putting it mildly." Ginny smirked.

Skye smiled. "If you ever want to talk about it, or really, if you ever need someone to talk to, you can always come to me." She walked over and placed a comforting hand on Ginny's shoulder. "And go easy on him; he really does care for you. In his own twisted, Slytherin way." She smiled.

Ginny snorted. "Right." She muttered scathingly.

Skye shook her head in amusement, leading Ginny gently over to a small room attached to the larger dance class room. The younger girl stared at the odds and ends around her.

The room was cramped; furniture and clothes were cast all around the room. Ginny gently ran a finger over a bright red India-silk pillow. The room practically vibrated with color. Everything was set in rich, bold hues. Brilliant red, blinding yellows, majestic blues; the room was an unimaginable rainbow.

Skye smiled around here. "Welcome to my home." She said proudly. "Dumbledore offered me my own room, but I said I'd prefer this one. Rather small, but I like it."

Ginny's eyes opened wider. "It's beautiful." She breathed, trying to take it all in at once.

Skye let her drink in the decorations for a few more minutes before steering her over to a large, full-length window. "You know, maybe you're right," Skye said, a mischievous grin playing on her lips as Ginny looked down through the glass "that doesn't look a thing like a boy in love." She said mockingly.

Ginny looked down, entranced. Draco was still standing there, where she'd left him over half an hour ago. His shoulders were slumped and he looked defeated. And angry.

Ginny held her breath. She should be down there…talking to him. She was really starting to regret leaving him, even if he was being a prat. She sighed heavily. "He's such a rotter. Sometimes I wonder what I like about him. And then he smiles or jokes around with me and I forget that I'm supposed to hate him. You know?" Ginny said.

Skye smiled. "Talk to him." She urged. Ginny turned to face her green-headed teacher. "But class starts in a few minutes." She protested feebly.

Skye smiled, pushing Ginny gently out the door. "Go on. I was just going to give you a free class period today. It is Christmas weekend, after all." She smiled reassuringly. "If you get things patched up, you're more than welcome to come back…together." She smiled again, giving Ginny one last shove.

Ginny didn't need any more encouragement. She raced down the hallway and the stairs, taking them two at a time and jumping down the last few.

She skidded to a halt just inside the large doors. More likely than not, Draco wasn't there anymore; but she had to check. They really needed to talk. She pushed the large door open gingerly.

To her surprise, she was looking into Draco's face, which was rather startled at the moment. "Weasley?" He asked hoarsely, reaching up to touch her, then dropping his hand hastily, adopting a scowl.

"What do you want?" He growled, trying to scare her away, but hoping slightly that she would stay. Though he would never admit it, not to himself, let alone her, but crying on her shoulder had done him a world of good. _She_ did him a world of good.

Ginny frowned and put her hands on her hips. "Stop being a git, Draco. I came back down to talk to you." She put a hand on his arm. He stiffened, but didn't pull away.

"Why are we fighting, Draco?" She asked quietly.

He scowled at her again. "Because you're a Weasley. I think that more or less speaks for itself." He sneered, realizing fully how much he sounded like a bastard, and coincidentally, his father.

Ginny was hurt, but she refused to let him see that. Someone had to be rational and strong here, and it certainly wasn't going to be Draco.

"Gods, Draco, you know I hate liars." She frowned. She'd have to talk in his language. Before he could react, she stepped forward, grabbing his robes, twirling him around and shoving him against the wall of the castle.

He gaped down at her. She looked dangerous, yeah, but incredibly stunning. Her eyes flashing dangerously, a rosy tint in her cheeks, her delicate mouth twisted in a frown.

He couldn't help it; she was more than he could take. He bent down and pressed his mouth to her lips. She hesitated, then let his robes go as his tongue slid between her lips.

This wasn't what she planned, but it was better than him yelling at her and vice versa.

She broke away from him. "Wait. Draco, I want to tell you something." He stared down at her. "Sorry, Ginny." He stepped back, leaning against the wall. "You know I'm no good with feelings and words. Before…that was my fault. I overreacted. It's just…" he fumbled for words "…I've never been able to talk to anyone before…besides Blaise. And I've never, not in all the years I've been here, ever cried. It's just not something I do."

He paused and grinned as a single tear slid down his cheek. Wiping it away, he chuckled bitterly. "Guess I'll just have to get used to it, eh?" Ginny smiled and leaned over, placing a tender kiss on his nose.

Draco's eyes widened at the affectionate gesture. "You don't have to worry about crying anymore, Draco. Things change. So can people. You are not your father's son. You can be your own man now." She smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Well, you can be my man now." She grinned. He laughed and pulled her closer. "Gods, you've no idea how bad I needed to hear you say that." They stood there, standing in what would have been, under other circumstances, an uncomfortable position; in the snow, standing clutching at each other. But neither cared much except for the other person in their arms.

Ginny finally broke away after some time. "Ready to head back to dance class?" She asked, remembering Skye's promising words.

Draco arched one fine blonde eyebrow. "Uh, We-Ginny, I think class had already started." He glanced down at his watch in confirmation.

Ginny smiled. "Skye said we could come to class late if we wanted to…together." She added. This time, both of Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Together? Does she know about you and me…?" He trailed.

Ginny's smile grew even wider. "Amazingly, yes. Apparently her window's right above us: she heard a lot." Draco stepped back and glanced up at the window, just in time to see a blur of bright green disappear from his line of vision. He smirked. "Well, it seems our dear teacher is very observant." He muttered, as amused as he was amazed.

Ginny's smile grew soft as she watched him. Every movement was so natural, graceful. His gestures flew like silk. He absent-mindedly tucked a stray strand of silvery blonde hair behind his ear. Ginny felt a strong surge of something (pride, perhaps?) as she watched him, knowing he cared for her. And to think she had been content as just his friend. Ginny half-frowned as she thought of their earlier disagreement. She sighed resentfully. These things were bound to happen; he was, after all, a Malfoy. That would take a while to wash out of his system, but perhaps, there might be some hope for them.

She grinned at him as he walked back to her side. He reached up and tugged playfully on a thin strand of hair that fell across her eyes. "Gods, I can't believe you're here." He whispered, oblivious to the fact that he was making no sense whatsoever.

Ginny cocked her head. "What do you mean?" She queried, uncrossing her eyes from where they'd been looking at his long fingers curled around her hair. He was looking down at her with unfathomable adoration. Ginny's jaw dropped slightly, as she was completely unaware that he was even capable of such a soft, tender gaze.

"Here. With me. Anyone else would have left me here, and not given it a second thought. Gods, I can't believe how lucky I am." He said the last with a rush of happiness. A smile broke out on his face. Not a sneer, not a smirk, but a true smile. He picked her up by her waist and spun her around easily, twirling her in the air. "I AM THE LUCKIEST MAN IN THE WORLD!" He shouted. When he finally set Ginny back down on her feet, she fell against his chest, reeling slightly. His smile was contagious though, and intoxicating. "What was that for?" She asked, wondering briefly if he was sober.

"You." He said simply, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that banished everything else from her mind, including the startling fact that Draco Malfoy was so...emotional. The kiss was feverish and wanting, but so destructively gentle. They broke apart, and Draco crushed her against him. "You've given me something to live for. A purpose in life." He explained.

The complexity and depth of his statement startled Ginny. It sounded like the ramblings of someone in love. She rested in his arms, content knowing that, for once, she wouldn't have to worry about the person she loved leaving her.

"He wants you to do what?"

Ginny and Heather were sitting on Ginny's bed in the empty sixth year's girls dormitory.

Ginny was staring, eyes and mouth wide open. Heather was resting against Ginny's headboard, looking somewhat pleased with herself. "He wants me to spend Christmas with him." The fifteen year-old explained, tossing her dark silky hair over her shoulder, still grinning inanely.

Ginny smiled and clapped her hands together. "How romantic. The two of you together at the holidays, sharing your lives…ah, why don't you just go get married in the process. Save some time." She smiled happily up at her friend.

Heather blushed. "We are pretty serious. Who would imagine I'd fall for a Slytherin? But Blaise is so incredible. I love spending time with him." She sighed. "I just don't know if I'm ready for this. I mean, we're going so fast, and while I do love him and all, he is a Slytherin pureblood, and I'm-"

"A terrific person." Ginny finished, biting her lip hesitantly. "Hey, Heather?" She asked softly. "He treats you…well, I don't know…good, right?" She questioned.

Heather smiled and nodded. "Better than any other boy I've ever known. Really, Ginny, he's such a gentleman I can't believe he's in Slytherin." She said, reassuringly.

Ginny grinned, relieved. "So, where's the problem?" She asked.

Heather frowned thoughtfully. "It took Blaise this long to find the real me," she glanced up at Ginny "what do you think his parents will think of me? He's not like them, really. While he's rather insane, I don't think they're going to welcome me with open arms. And if Blaise doesn't have his parents' approval…" She trailed off, pouting slightly.

"I'm just not sure if I'm going to go." She smiled weakly up at Ginny. "We'll see how things turn out."

Ginny smiled reassuringly at the younger girl. "Trust me, Heather. I've seen the way Blaise looks at you, and believe me, he's not going to let a stupid thing like his parents stand in the way of what he wants." She grinned wickedly. "Which happens to be you." Heather grinned back. "Maybe I will go." She said, still uncertain and making a mental reminder to talk to Blaise about it later.

Ginny's smile suddenly dropped. "Oh, but if you do go, it means I won't see you for two weeks!" She moaned, flopping back on the bed. Heather grinned ruthlessly. "Oh, I can imagine you and Draco can find something to do in the next two weeks." She said, implicatively.

Ginny's shot up, throwing a pillow at her best friend playfully. "Heather!" She exclaimed, going a little pink. "So, when would you leave, if you do decide to go?" She asked, almost certain Heather would go, but keeping her mouth shut. She wouldn't influence her friend's decision, whatever it was.

Heather frowned. "Tomorrow, which doesn't leave much time for me to think. Blaise actually went to Dumbledore to get his permission to let me go with him if I do want to go. As long as I tell the Headmaster before I go, I can leave with Blaise." She said, biting her lip gently. "But that just means you and I have some time to spend together. In case I do decide to go." She added as an afterthought. "After all, there's a Hogsmeade trip tomorrow to look forward to." She smiled.

Ginny returned the smile. "Remember when we never went to Hogsmeade?"

Heather laughed. Yeah, but that was before we got interested in these Slytherin boys of ours." She shook her head. "Speaking of which, how are things between you and Draco? Did you make up from this morning?"

Ginny nodded.

"Good. I can't stand having you two mad, but still longing, might I add, for each other. Bloody sick." She stuck out her tongue to prove her point.

Ginny laughed, rolling off her bed. "Well, if you're going, I might as well give you your Christmas present now, right?" She dug around under her bed and finally pulled out a large box. "This is under the unconcluded assumption that you are going. If you don't go, it doesn't really matter. Hope you like it."

Heather rolled her eyes. "Gods, you are impatient, aren't you?" She smiled nonetheless, and put the package on her lap. Ginny scrambled back onto the bed, looking anxious and excited. Heather shook her head, amused, and pulled the gold wrapping off the box. She popped the lid off the box and gasped, shooting Ginny an appreciative, yet 'are you out of your mind?' glance.

She pulled a thick book from the box, carelessly tossing it aside as she took in the book. It was a gorgeous book, bound in shining black leather. Heather ran her fingers along the cover, and across the golden letters that spelled out 'Black Book Of Shadows'.

It was a well-known and impossibly rare book, and despite its somewhat sinister title, it was rather harmless. It was blank, once you opened it, as Heather was doing now, flipping through the pages reverently. It was a deeply magical book that had at one time, been used widely by seamstresses and artists alike.

Heather, who loved to draw, especially figures, glanced up at Ginny, her mouth opened in awe. "Is this really T-THE book?" She stammered. Ginny nodded, her grin growing ever wider as Heather touched a finger to the book.

Heather had read about the book once, and raved about it, and its powers to Ginny for days. It was a complicated book that needed strong magic and great skill, but it was astonishing. The artist, the person who drew in the book, would sketch out a picture of a figure on the page. But the main part was what the figure was wearing. That had to come from the artist's imagination. After that, you simply scribbled down some measurements, chanted a spell, and voila- the creation would magically assemble itself, ready to wear, according to the measurements.

The book was immensely valuable and rather costly. Heather held it up to her chest, tears in her eyes. "How…?" She trailed off, speechless. Ginny smiled, happiness crossing her face. "With a lot of my savings and a little help from my brothers. D'you like it?" She asked, apprehensive.

Heather merely leaned over and hugged Ginny tightly, at loss for words.

Ginny's smile threatened to split her face. She'd gotten her Christmas present.

As Heather leaned back, Ginny sat back on her heels. "Well, are you going to try it out?" She asked. Heather also broke into a smile. "I thought you'd never ask." She flew from the room, only to return a few minutes later, carrying her best quill and several inkbottles and jars. Ginny smacked a hand to her forehead. "I almost forgot about the ink. I'm glad you remembered; it wouldn't have worked otherwise."

Heather sat down, spreading her things out around her. "So, if I remember correctly, we have to mix certain colors of ink with certain ingredients for certain cloths?" She asked.

Ginny shook her head. "The color of the cloth depends on the color ink you use. And the type of cloth depends on the ingredients you mix with the ink." She explained.

Heather grinned. "Right." Ginny looked down at where her friend was sorting through her stores. "D'you have an idea for what you're going to do?" She asked. Heather nodded, picking up a bottle of black ink and a small jar of beetle's eyes. "Yeah. I designed this killer outfit, and I was dying to have it made." She grinned. "Looks like I won't have to wait.

Heather crushed the beetle eyes and added it to the black ink, shaking the bottle. Then she dipped her quill in the liquid and started to sketch. Ginny watched in fascination, and her friend quickly did a gesture drawing of a woman, about Heather's build. Then she drew on the woman a long, flowing skirt with a slit up one side, carefully coloring it in, making shadows in highlights to define waves and dips in the fabric. The bodice was tight, with criss-crossing strips across the dark cloth on the chest, like a corset. The long sleeves ended in billows. A pair of knee-high boots done in black ink and crushed dragon fangs completed the drawing. Ginny sucked in her breath, gazing at the finishing product, realizing that the 'black' ink on the cloth was really a deep green, almost black. It was stunning. She turned to her friend.

Heathers eyes were shining at the picture, satisfaction and awe in them. She hastily scratched out her measurements in the top left corner. She turned to Ginny. All was left was the incantation, which was written on the inside cover. She took a deep breath.

"Black winds cross the mighty sands,

the magic fading with each gust,

drawn on clean pages with clever hands,

now we say what every creator must."

She breathed out again, grasping her wand firmly in her hand. She closed her eyes and muttered the spell. "Desinaxion Coltos Minixcula!" She breathed.

Ginny gasped as the book glowed with a bright white light, which turned black with a bang. Shielding their eyes with their hands, the girls waited for the magic to stop. Finally, everything was still, and quiet again. They both looked down. There, on top of the book, was the exact outfit Heather had drawn, true to scale, and glimmering with a beautiful silky sheen. The leather boots fell to the floor with a soft thud, exactly the right size for Heather's slender feet.

Ginny and Heather stared at each other, amazed. Heather gasped and single tear ran down her cheek as she enveloped Ginny in a crushing embrace. "Oh my gods, Gin, this is the best present I've ever gotten." She pulled back, putting a hand to her mouth. "I really can't except this, though. It's too much." She cast a longing look over the book.

Ginny laughed. "Heather, you are my best friend in the world, like a sister to me. I love you as much as I do my own siblings; sometimes more." She shrugged. "Besides, I got it from an old witch who wouldn't use it. It was a shame it was going to waste and I know you'll put it to good use."

Heather shook her head. "But it's so…expensive. I can't accept this." Ginny frowned and put her hands on her hips. "Fine. We'll make a deal, since you won't take it any other way, and I have no intention of letting you pass this down. You WILL accept this, and if you ever feel bad, just draw me something and send it to me. Heaven knows I could do with a Rambinski original or two in my closet." She grinned again.

Heather's eyes lit up again. "Gin, you're the best!" She shrieked, flinging her arms around her neck. "Just you wait…on Christmas, you'll be lucky to just get off with a Rambinski original!" She released Ginny, positively beaming.

Ginny's eyes widened. "I have a brilliant plan." She gasped, and dragged Heather back to the bed, where they stayed for several hours, with several more blasts of black and white light and loud bangs.


	7. The Wretched Woes of Ginevra Teresa Weas

**Author's Note:** Hi, I'm back. Arggghhh! I hate technology! My computer's being a berk and won't let me upload a chapter and then fix it, so I have to go about it the hard way. (Grumble, grumble). But, hey it works...so hoohah! Take that you psycho-possessed neurotic piece of junk metal shit! HAHAHAHAHA! Ahem. Yes, sorry, but I've been trying unsuccessfully for many many days to upload the chapters, and now...yay! I love technology! Right, so...here it is, Chapter 7. And thanks to **Harry Lover! ).** I do realize that Harry and Ron are major prats in this story. But it gets better. Eventually. Sorry. Read and enjoy, I've spent loads of time trying to ge this up, and have been neglecting actually finishing the story. Ta!

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, unless it is. Not mine J.K. Rowlings'. Der. Like the past 6 chapters.

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 7: The Wretched Woes of Ginevra Teresa Weasley**

Draco tapped his foot impatiently. He and Blaise had been waiting for Heather and Ginny for fifteen minutes at the Three Broomsticks. It was Sunday, and they had all planned on meeting in Hogsmeade, as Blaise and Heather would be leaving in the evening. Blaise kept glancing around, standing on the tips of his toes.

"Where are they?" Blaise asked for what felt like the hundredth time, scanning the crowd of students packed in the small pub, warming themselves up with bottles of Butterbeer. Draco grinned. His friend was totally lost without the tiny imp of a girl attached to his hip. On one hand (the Slytherin guided one), he was just the tiniest bit disgusted, but on the other hand (the one that lent him the voice he was beginning to listen to more and more) he knew how Blaise felt. It was how he felt without Ginny.

He sighed. He'd become so attached to her that he could barely go a few minutes without thinking about her. There was just something; the way she trusted in him more than her own brother and how she no longer trailed around St. Potter like a pathetic puppy anymore, and how she just didn't care about what anyone thought, unless it was Heather, Blaise, or him. He loved her spontaneity and random remarks.

But most of all, he loved her love. She gave it so freely and willingly, with no regard to the fact that she was giving it to a Malfoy. The fact that she cared for him so much (and gods, did she), she being who she was, and he being who he was, meant so much to him.

In most aspects, she was his first love. Not physically, no; he'd had other girls before her, in more ways than he had her. But she was the first person to actually care for him. She showed more than just physical attraction, or lust. She gave him such tender caresses and glances (and the most amazing kisses) that he forgot he should hate her. If she could find it in her to defy her parents (and she loved hers more than Draco loved his), he could certainly find it in him to forget everything his father had burned into him. And he did.

"Finally!" Blaise exclaimed, sitting back down in his chair. A few seconds later, Ginny and Heather approached their table. All the chatter and talk ceased and all eyes turned to the two girls, who were fighting back giggles.

Draco's jaw dropped and Blaise's eyes bugged out of his head. Ginny and Heather did laugh at their comical expressions, and conversations started up around them again.

Ginny and Heather had stayed up all night creating more and more outfits (the pages were refilling and never-ending), Ginny trying her hand at sketching out outfits, as she had some talent with a quill as well. Their resulting wardrobe additions were stunning.

Ginny had finally decided on a deep green, velvety outfit, of a long skirt that swirled around her ankles and a matching sleeveless corset-like top. It looked more like one whole dress, and set off her red hair magnificently. A pair of snakeskin green boots finished the look, along with the formfitting black robes she was removing in the heated room. Heather was wearing a long dress in a deep, midnight blue, which set off her eyes in the most incredible way. The tube-like top clung to her waist, showing off her slender curves, and had loose straps circling around her upper arms, hanging off her shoulders. She skirt wasn't full, but flowed around her when she walked, shimmering with a sparkling radiance. She was wearing a pair of extremely high black boots, which were made of a clinging material, complimenting her calves, setting off a matching black robe.

Draco and Blaise could only stare as they sat down and ordered two Butterbeers. Both were gleaming at their obvious approval. Draco was the first to regain the use of his vocal chords.

"Stunning outfits, ladies, but what's the occasion? Surely you didn't dress up for just us?" He tilted his head to the side, looking suddenly puzzled. "And where did you get the clothes from? They look new, and they're certainly unique, but I don't recognize the designer."

Ginny broke out into giggles, but quickly stifled them. "Would you believe something like this came from the latest designer in Paris?" She asked, ignoring Heather's silent laughter next to her.

Blaise's eyes opened wider. "Really? You two bought outfits from Paris? Why?"

Neither girl could keep up the charade with a straight face. They both exploded into heavy, uncontrollable laughter. The two Slytherins exchanged a look that blatantly questioned their girlfriends' sanity.

Ginny sat up, swallowing her next bout of laughter as Heather struggled to do the same. "No, we were just having you on. Actually, Heather designed them." Draco didn't miss the hint of pride in her friend's abilities in Ginny's voice.

"No, Ginny designed hers." Heather protested, the same proud note sticking in her voice.

Blaise and Draco stared. "You two made these?" Blaise asked, astonished. Both girls flushed and nodded. Draco whistled. "Congrats. Ginny, you look good enough to eat. Heather-" he turned to the younger girl "-I'd say the same for you, but Blaise would probably rip my head off, so I'll suffice to say, you're a very talented designer."

Blaise glared as Heather and Ginny burst into giggles again. "But how did you make them? More importantly, when did you make them?" He asked.

Ginny explained briefly about her present to Heather, and their few 'experiments'.

Draco shook his head in disbelief, also trying to shake off the eerie, thoughful glance the younger witch was giving him. "Well, I don't know about you, mate, but I think Christmas came early this year." He said, glancing at Ginny appreciatively.

Blaise was doing the same to Heather. "Well, Ginny, Draco, I hope you don't mind too much, but Heather and I have some serious shopping to do." Blaise grinned. "Though apparently, not for clothes." The couple stood up and walked from the room, giving Draco and Ginny both small waves.

Ginny turned around just in time to meet Draco's lips, hungry and devouring. She moaned softly, reaching up to tangle her hands in his hair. His lips left hers, and butterflies flew through her stomach as she realized several people from school were staring. She flushed. "It seems we're attracting attention." She muttered.

She was surprised when Draco took her lips again. "I don't care." He whispered, lips brushing hers. Ginny shivered, as the familiar flames spread through her body from his touch; the reaction he and he alone could cause.

Ginny smiled into his mouth, leaning in closer. "Me either." She breathed into his cheek, moving her lips in a little line along his jaw and face.

"GINEVRA TERESA WEASLEY!"

Ginny's eyes flew open as the Three Broomsticks grew quiet again. Draco's lips broke away from where they'd been playing on the soft skin near her ear. "Oh shit." He muttered. Ginny whirled around.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione were striding towards her; one pair of eyes looking disgusted and hurt, another looking slightly puzzled, but mostly worried, and the third blazing with hatred, anger and murderous intentions.

Ginny sprang up from her seat. "Ron-" She started warningly.

Her older brother strode up to their table, where Draco was still sitting, looking exceptionally composed and relaxed, leaning back in his chair.

Ginny moved around to stand in front of Draco, separating him from her irate brother. He and his two best friends stopped in front of Ginny. Ron pulled out his wand, old and battered. "Move, Ginny, I'm going to kill that slimy piece of shit!" He fumed, waving his wand around forebodingly.

Ginny put her hands on her hips, feet planted firmly. "No, Ron, you're not." She stated simply. Her voice held neither anger or fear. If anything, it hinted at disappointment.

Ron's arms fell to his sides. She wasn't pleading, or yelling, or protesting. She was telling him that he wasn't going to touch the god damned bastard that had been shoving his lips on hers, and other nasty, icky things he really didn't want to think about.

Ron reached out to shove Ginny aside, but she grabbed his hand, gently, but firmly. "Ron, this is my business. It has nothing to do with you whatsoever. Now, I suggest you put away your wand and leave, before you hurt someone or make a fool of yourself. You're embarrassing me and you by doing this." She said, softly, giving his hand a light, reassuring squeeze.

Ron stared, his mouth hanging open. He was seeing his sister in a new light. Perhaps it was the dazzling outfit she was wearing, but she seemed to have grown up sometime when he hadn't noticed. But he was noticing it now, with severe dislike. She was his baby sister, for Merlin's sake!

Ron felt a tender hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Ron. She's right, you know. If you have to talk to her, do it back in the common room later, okay?" Hermione said.

Ron lowered his wand arm. He stepped back for a moment, giving Ginny and Draco both, long, sound looks. For one blessed moment, Ginny thought Ron would actually let it go. She thought he might think of her for a moment, about what she wanted, and not what would make him look good or bad. She thought he would trust her.

She thought wrong.

Ron glared at Draco. "I'll being seeing you later, Malfoy." He spat the name as if it was bitter poison, giving the tall blonde a look of complete disgust, before turning on his heels and storming out of the pub, which began to get noisy again.

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances before following the fuming red-head out, Hermione shooting Ginny one last doubtful glance.

Ginny sunk down in her chair, putting her head in her hands. "Oh, gods." She muttered, voice cracking. Draco frowned and slapped some money down on the table, standing abruptly. Ginny turned to him, her eyes already puffy and red, though she'd thankfully refrained from actually crying.

"Let's get out of here." Draco said simply, taking her hand in his, pulling her along with him out into the streets.

Blaise glanced down at the small girl at his side. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but right now, it really didn't matter who or what she was, and vice versa. All that mattered was that she was there for him. If he thought about it logically, the only thing that would be in his way if he wanted to be with her would be his parents. And as he had been informally disowned by said people, he wasn't really too concerned with what they thought of him.

Heather stiffened, feeling his gaze. She looked up at him with those big eyes, so dark and so mysterious, but still comforting in their depths, so like his own. She was so like him in so many ways that he was surprised that she was in Gryffindor. She would have done remarkably well in Slytherin.

Heather smiled and rested her head on his arm, twining her fingers with his. "I'm going to miss you." She said softly, giving his hand a quick squeeze. She still wasn't sure how Blaise felt towards her. "Though I never thought I'd say it; two weeks is far too long for Christmas vacation." She did know how she cared for him, though, as she told him.

Blaise smiled softly at her head, leaning down to plant a kiss in her dark hair. "You don't have to miss me, you know." He said meaningfully.

Heather scoffed, missing his pointed gaze. "Fat chance. The second you're gone, I'll be at the window, waiting for you to come back." She knew it was odd that admitting how much she cared for him felt so comfortable and easy, but he surprised her by doing the same. Their relationship was based a lot on trust, and almost everything, including their feelings, were out in the open. Except for when it came to her and how he cared for her. Yeah, he said he loved her a lot, but what would happen when his parents found out he was dating a half-blood Gryffindor?

"Why don't you come and spend Christmas with me and my cousin?" He asked, breaking her from her thoughts and startling her; praying she would; he was going to miss her as much as she would him if not.

Heather's head snapped up, eyes bright. "Seriously?" She asked, her voice catching in excitement. Blaise grinned and nodded. "I'm staying with my cousin over the holidays. She lives in France and completely hates my parents. She's like me, and I'm sure she'd love you. She hates the whole purebloods-are-better-thing. Needless to say, we get on well." He shrugged and grinned again, though this one was a little pained.

Heather's mind was spinning. Before, she'd thought he meant staying with his parents, a thought that wasn't quite pleasant. But he wanted her to come with him to France! And god knew she wanted to be with him.

Making up her mind, she shocked him as she jumped up on her toes, placing her lips on his. She pulled away, but only briefly, her face inches from his. "Of course, I'd love to come." She purred, before covering his mouth with hers.

Blaise groaned and pulled her closer, practically picking her up as he stood up straight. Heather's toes brushed the ground, fighting to keep her up as her lips refused to break with Blaise's.

Lips still locked, Blaise pulled her over to a darkened alleyway. Heather smiled and nearly giggled into his mouth as she saw three familiar, shocked faces disappear behind Blaise's shoulder. But all thoughts of the Dream Team were lost as Blaise playfully poked at her lips with the tip of his tongue.

He did this several times before running it lightly across her bottom lip. Heather gasped, her lips parting, as they did every time he did this to her. When she was kissing Blaise, it was one of the few times she lost her composure and for once, just wanted to scream or laugh. Or both. Usually, she just opted for kissing him back, which he was fine with.

Heather sighed and wove her fingers through Blaise's thick mane of dark hair, tangling it hopelessly and giving him a very disheveled look. Blaise wrapped his arms around her waist and crushed her against him, holding her so tightly, yet so gently.

Though no one but him knew how much he wanted her, and more than just passionate kisses, he would always respect the fact that she was, after all, two years younger than him, and though she was sometimes (most of the time, actually) more mature than he was, she was still a young girl.

Had Heather known that, she would have never doubted his love. As it was, she didn't really, but there was always that nagging little piece of their relationship that could separate them, and it scared her. But it also excited her to be with Blaise.

He'd introduced her into an entire new world. One that she was beginning to immerse herself in more and more to get away from harsh reality. While friends (like Ginny) were great, and provided incredible support and understanding, there really was nothing like a love mate. Blaise was her rock. Her stability. The one who was there to catch her when she fell. The one who could comfort her with their simple intimacy in the form of a satisfactory kiss. Friends were great for hugs and all, but sometimes a single kiss from Blaise, or just the feeling of being in his arms were more mending and healing.

Heather smiled, and blushed, grateful that Blaise couldn't read her mind. She wrapped her arms tighter around Blaise's neck, her lips breaking from his as she fought not to gasp for breath. Blaise already knew how much of an affect he had on her without her panting like she'd just run a marathon.

Blaise moaned in protest, his lips skimming stingingly over her cheeks and down her jaw. She tried to ignore the shock that went through her body at his touch. She shivered, pulling his face to hers, thin lips skating over his nose, cheeks, mouth, chin, anywhere she could touch. Had she been a girl parched of thirst, he would have been her water.

She 'drank' him in, unable to get enough of him. She couldn't kiss him hard enough; she couldn't get enough of his lips, she couldn't hold him close enough to her. For some reason, she felt horribly afraid, at that moment, that something would take him away from her. And that was just something she couldn't face.

While she'd been busy with other things, it seemed, she had fallen in love with him; their time apart spent strengthening their bond, and it scared and surprised her to realize that she had fallen in love with him. Suddenly, they were no longer just kids in a crush.

They were young adults in love. Heather felt laughter bubbling in her throat. She pulled her mouth from his as a wave of mirth burst from it. Blaise stared down at her, thoroughly confused. Heather cackled for a second and it calmed him, though only slightly. It wasn't a sneering or mocking laugh; it was a true one. But…

"And what, pray tell, would you find so funny in the middle of a kiss?" He asked, in what he assumed was a stern voice, hands on his hips, waiting expectantly.

Heather planted a kiss on his lips, softening his harsh stare. "I've just figured something out." She said giggly, before she could break from her state and realize how odd she sounded, not to mention insane.

Blaise stared at her, exasperated and more than a little confused. "And that would be…?" He prompted arms dropping to his sides.

Heather leaned in, leaving only an inch between their mouths. She eyed his moist lower lip. "That I love you." She answered before sealing the small distance that separated their lips. Blaise smiled into her small, sweet mouth, breaking away from it for a second with much will-power. "S'about time." He whispered huskily, before draining his small reserve of will-power and crushing their lips together.

Draco and Ginny walked for a little while in complete silence, Draco running into Honeydukes for a moment, and finally stopped at a point just beyond the Shrieking Shack.

Draco sank to the ground, pulling Ginny along with him. She sat down soundly, staring out hollowly over the cliff that lay in front of them. Draco sighed and pulled a small bag of candy from his pocket.

He ripped it open and offered her one. She took it, distracted and popped it in her mouth, not really realizing what she was chewing. After several seconds, her eyes widened, tears already leaking from them. "Tear Drops?" She asked, as salty drops streaked her face.

Draco nodded. "Have a taste of your own medicine, Ginevra. If I had to cry, you definitely have to. Besides" he added "it will do you good to get it out of your system."

Ginny smiled weakly as she cried, harder and harder. For a while, Draco marveled at the strength in the candy. Then he realized part of it (rather, most of it) was her, really crying. He reached over and pulled her to him. She cradled in his arms as he put an arm under her knees and one around her shoulders, rocking her back and forth as he'd seen women do with small children in public.

Ginny clung to the fabric of his robes, refusing to let go of him. If she released her grip, the world would start spinning again, and she wouldn't be able to stay up.

"Don't let me fall." She whimpered, head spinning as sobs shook her angular frame. Draco wrapped his arms around her tighter, unable to comfort her as she had him. He hated seeing her like this, knowing it was partly his fault, and not being able to do anything about it.

He stroked her head awkwardly. To his surprise, she stopped sobbing, her tears residing to muffled cries. She clung tighter to him, her head pounding as her breath came in shaky pants. She sniffled, wiping at her nose with her sleeve. Draco pulled a tissue from his pocket (Blaise had been sneezing all over him earlier that morning after eating a Wheezer's Sneezers, making Draco heartily wish he had decided to duck down and adjust his socks at that moment) and offered it to her.

She took it with a strangled thanks and blew her nose sharply. She crumpled the tissue and muttered an Obliterating Charm, letting the fabric disappear. She reached up and wrapped an arm around Draco's neck.

He cradled her to him like she was a small child. How many times he'd wished someone would hold him like this when he was just a little tot. "I thought you didn't care about what people thought about you, eh?" He teased lightly.

Ginny snorted. "Yeah, well, it still hurts." She grimaced. "It's terrific having your brother completely ignore you until you do something he doesn't like, or that makes him look bad. I'm tired of having him tell me what to do." She sighed. "Sad, isn't it? A few tears, and I've given up on trying to please my brother. I've given up on him, I have." She sounded regretful and guilty, but made up as well. "Either he can accept me as I am, or learn to deal with it. I'm not changing anymore. I'm bloody tired of it." She sat back against him.

"Surprised me, though. You, I mean. If Ron had been looking at me that way, I'd have run. You just sat there, like you were watching an amusing play. Took balls, that did." She smiled. "Sorry about him, by the way." She muttered feebly.

He grinned, though he knew she couldn't possibly see him. "Don't really give a damn about your brother. As long as I've got you, I don't see any need to worry about him."

Ginny smiled and leaned in closer to him. "Thanks, Draco." She whispered. Exhausted from crying and the events of the day in general, she fell asleep in his arms, feeling content and secure.


	8. Holidays Part 1: The Christmas Monkeys ...

**Author's Note:** Yay, Chapter 8! This is a happy chapter, all Christmassy and the likes. Um...actually, I don't think there's any icky, bad, grrrrrr parts. It's revoltingly cheerful. So, for those of you who read some of the later chapters and get depressed, this is the chapter you can come bac and read and feel all happy again...before you read the rest of the story and plummet back into sadness. HAHAHAHAHA. I induce bipolar natures! Weeeeeeeee! Yay.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, unless it is. If not mine, is J.K.Rowlings. Me Author, you Reader. (I OUTRANK YOU!)

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 8: Holidays - Part 1: The Christmas Monkeys of Love **

Blaise stirred from his fitful sleep. Stretching, he glanced around him, confused for a second by the unfamiliar surroundings. Then he glanced down at his lap. Heather's head was resting there, her eyes still shut in a blissful slumber as he recalled that they were on a train bound for France.

Feeling an uncharacteristic pull of affection, he reached down and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. She was so…perfect. Not that that mattered, but it did make things a lot easier. She was so much easier to love, because she was exactly what he wanted.

While more than half of the male population at Hogwarts went for the curvy, bubbly, blondes, Blaise merely swallowed his distaste for the creatures, and sought his ideal of perfection in another vessel. Basically, Heather.

He loved how tiny she was, and in comparison to him, she was like a child. She fit into his arms so effortlessly. He didn't have anything against the curvy or voluptuous type, but there was something about Heather that reminded him of a little girl, and when he held her, he felt like he was useful, had some sort of purpose. There was just something about that need for protection, like he was the only one who could provide it. It scared him sometimes how frail she was, but that was just her. And he loved everything about her. Her lovely long, dark hair. The gorgeous deep blue eyes that rendered her so mysterious and like him. She impish, quirky smile that stretched across her slight lips on the occasions she found something worth laughing over.

To his delight, Blaise discovered he had a knack for making her laugh. She appreciated his dark, Slytherin-like humor, and dry wit, better than any other Slytherin, not including Draco. Ginny liked it as well, and he had to admit, he had grown to be rather fond of the red-headed menace who drove Draco mad.

But he absolutely loved Heather. He found himself wishing almost fervently sometimes that they were older. Or at least, she was. He wanted her so badly, virtually having to forcefully drive thoughts of her from his mind. Sure, he'd been sexually active since his fifth year, but none of the tarts had meant a thing other than a way to relieve stress. No, Blaise knew that he could wait, even years if he had to, for Heather. In fact, his desire for her only strengthened his love for her. Because when he knew he wouldn't be getting…that…from her for some time (she'd made herself quite clear on that point), he'd looked for other ways to be closer to her. And then he'd found something he'd never expected to find, not in a million years.

Love.

He couldn't believe it at first. He'd liked her, of course, and with just a little more than physical attraction (for him, that was a lot), but he'd never expected anything serious to come from it. For Christ's sake, he was only seventeen. And she was just fifteen! Not old enough to do almost anything legally, she was apparently, old enough to determine love.

He remembered the first time they'd really kissed (the brush across the lips in Hogsmeade didn't really count), and she had looked so sure. It had almost intimidated him. Most girls, especially fifteen year-olds, were frightened to be so close to him, he being so handsome and rich.

She'd merely smiled up at him and pressed her lips to his.

He rubbed his fingers reminiscently over his own lips, scarred and slightly twisted from many years of Quidditch and his father's abuse. Unlike Draco's father, who preferred magical and medieval torture, Blaise's father, Colius Zabini, found a sick fascination with the more uncommon torture methods. Blaise had often played target practice with his father. An innocent enough game, save for the small facts that he was the 'target', and he was being aimed at with Muggle beer bottles. There had been others, too. Being tied up in a large sack, which served his father as a human punching bag. And of course, there was no forgetting playing darts with Colius. Blaise refused to speak of him, or even think of him as his father. He hadn't seen the man in two years, and he hoped to never have to again, being content to spend holidays and this upcoming summer with his cousin, Janet.

Blaise smiled and stared out the window, thinking of the one person, besides Draco (and now Heather and Ginny) who he could talk to and feel understood. She was the only thing (besides the comfort and support from Draco) that kept him going when he was still living with his parents.

One night, when he was fifteen, his father had had a large, rather rowdy party during the summer to strengthen his ties to the others in his social circle (basically all Death Eaters and the sort). Blaise remembered walking around in a stiff set of dress robes, welcoming and greeting people. How could he not remember? That was the night his parents had tried to force the Mark on him. Draco had been there with his parents as well, and they had been a part of the same scheme to try and add the talented two young Slytherin boys to their ranks.

So much happened so quickly, only the truly blessed parts remained in his mind. He recalled Draco and himself (along with some other forgettable boy going along on his own accord) being led to a secret room that reeked of fear, sex, alcohol, and most dominantly, death. Everything that happened in that room was a blur, until it came to the actual moment where his skin was to be branded. He could almost feel the cold beads of sweat rolling down his forehead; almost feel his limbs shaking from the memory of the hooded man holding a wand approaching steadily.

And then, glorious release. Janet had stormed into the room, breaking up the small circle. She had never bonded much with her aunt, Marguerite Zabini, Blaise's mother, so needless to say, Blasise didn't see much of her. But he had heard a lot about her. She had been a powerful, cunning Slytherin at Hogwarts with an arranged marriage. Her life had been set up before her, and she'd been expected to be a great Death Eater one day, perhaps as powerful as the Dark Lord himself. But she'd done something no person in the history of the Zabinis had ever done before; she declined the marriage. Her parents; sister and brother-in-law to Marguerite, had tried everything to get her to agree with them.

They'd tried to convince her; she paid no heed to their words. They attempted torture; she threw the curses and blows off with stunning magical and physical strength, even turning some of their own back at them. They'd threatened to disown her; she disappeared with half their fortune (which they'd made the mistake of banking in her name) and bought her own home in France, where she shocked them even more by taking up a girlfriend, an old 'friend' from Hogwarts who had become more than just friends.

Disgusted, her parents claimed they had no daughter. But that night, as Blaise stood, Draco at his side, it was most obvious that they did indeed, have a daughter, and she was back with a vengeance.

The next thing Blaise remembered, his father had the head of a pig and Lucius Malfoy (who had been the man wielding the wand) was hanging from the ceiling by what looked suspiciously like a large pink bow.

Janet had whisked the two boys off, having already summoned some of their things, and they were gone…all the way to France. She'd kept them the entire summer, inviting both of them to come back; she never wanted either of them to set foot in their respective 'homes' again, offering to go as far as adopt the two of them. Draco and Blaise had regretfully refused, but accepted her gracious offer and stayed with her during not only that summer, but the next as well. They stayed at either her house or Hogwarts during holidays, and the tall intelligent witch had become like a surrogate mother to the two.

She wasn't nearly old enough to be their mother, so they thought of her as an older sister.

And now he'd be seeing her again. With Heather. The grin picked up again. He knew Janet would like his girl; if not truly, then at least for his sake. That was the difference between Janet and his parents. She was allowing and forgiving. Perhaps it had something to do with her attraction to other women, but she was definitely loose, though still surprisingly firm.

Heather shifted from her sleep just as the train that was taking them to France came to a stop. She glanced up…straight into Blaise's unfathomably dark eyes. A small smile of happiness touched her lips. It was a smile that Blaise knew well- he'd kissed it more times than he could count. He did so now.

Heather sighed as he broke away. She sat up, leaning back against him groggily. "Are we there yet?" She yawned.

Blaise grinned. "Yep. Jan said she'd meet us here, so I guess we'd better start getting ready to get off." He suggested, rather miffed that they were having to break apart after her having just woken up.

As if reading his mind, Heather turned around and placed a fiery kiss on his lips. "Don't worry; we'll have plenty of time once we get back to her villa. We've got two weeks together." She smiled and touched her lips to the spot soft with hair at his temple.

Blaise couldn't suppress a grin, which lasted through the entire process of getting their luggage together, unloading from the train, and climbing the stairs to the waiting lounge.

It was with this same grin that he greeted his cousin. She was standing, in Muggle clothes, waiting for him, looking much as she had from the last time he'd seen her, over the summer. Of course, he hadn't seen much of her, as she'd spent much time with her new girlfriend. This one seemed to be pretty amazing, from what Janet had written about, including her excited letter telling him the woman had temporarily moved to her villa. She worked at some Institution in England, but stayed with Janet whenever possible, and was considering leaving her job to live permanently with Janet.

Blaise left Heather's side for a moment, striding up to a tall, lithe woman with black hair and fair skin, much like Heather's own complexion, except this woman had a dark beauty mark on her chin and her hair was cut rather short in a wispy haircut, gelled and quite spiky. Very chic and French-looking, especially with her touches of eyeliner and lipstick.

This older woman (she looked to be in about her mid-twenties) lit up into a smile when she caught a glance of Blaise. She quickly put out her smoldering cigarette, blowing a puff of silver smoke into the air with practiced ease. She leaned forward and enclosed her young cousin in a warm hug.

"Blaise!" She crooned, in a low, even voice, still smiling. He smiled back, moving back to take her in his gaze. "Jan, you look positively radiant." Heather couldn't help a soft smile at the warmth and affection in his voice. It was a tone she was getting to know well with him. Blaise turned around, motioning for Heather to join their little reunion.

Janet turned to Heather, taking in her outfit (one of her own design: long-sleeved midnight blue one-shoulder top with a pair of baggy black pants and boots) as Heather took in hers (a Docheri original from Paris: a maroon blouse and short black skirt and matching pumps), both grinning in subconscious approval.

"Jan, this is my girlfriend, Heather Rambinski. Heather, this is my cousin Janet."

Heather, a little surprised at the frank title Blaise had given her, held out her hand, which Janet took warmly in hers. "Please, do call me Jan. You will be staying in my house, after all. And besides, you're my favorite cousin's girl; the fact that you've got a strong enough stomach to deal with him makes you worthy of first-name basis rank." She grinned and Blaise scowled as Heather grinned back.

Muttering something that sounded like 'women' under his breath in a pretend scoff, Blaise went back for their bags as Heather picked up hers and, waiting for Blaise to catch up, followed Janet out to her car ( a recently acquired possession, as she lived in a Muggle villa in Capri).

Heather and Blaise both gasped as someone popped up from the hood of the car.

A blindingly pink-headed someone.

"Skye?"

Ginny woke up on Christmas morning groggily. She wiped sleep from her eyes and stood, stretching, and shivering at the touch of the cold floor on her feet. She quickly pulled on a robe and slippers and peeked around at the floor in front of her bed.

Presents!

She kneeled down, looking at the array of different-sized boxes on her floor. She seemed to have more and larger gifts this year, and it was with deep anticipation that she sat down by her pile of presents.

The first one she pulled from the pile was from her mother. It held the regular jumper, in a bright green, except this one was slightly smaller, less enveloping, and more form-fitting. She smiled fondly at her mother's creation, even more so at the variety of Christmas sweets (mince piece, nut brittle, and cake) Molly Weasley had sent her. Her father had sent her several Knuts and five whole Galleons! That was more than she usually got. Grinning, Ginny reached for the two largest presents, both bearing Heather's name, along with a holiday card.

Ginny's eyes lit up appreciatively as she pulled several articles of clothing from the first box. One was a long, flowing satin nightgown in a dusky, silvery blue color. Ginny rubbed the soft fabric against her cheek before pulling out the next one. It was a pair of jeans, though they were like no other Ginny had ever seen. Spiraling around the legs, as if wrapping them, were several rose vines, with realistic-looking roses spattering the pants randomly. The next was a skirt that positively hummed with the brightness of its colors. Red, orange, gold and yellow swirled around, making the fabric seem in motion. Ginny touched it reverently.

From the box came a light, minty-green strapless sundress that came down to her knees, a pleated dark green miniskirt, a pair of silky, oriental coral-colored lounging pants with slits up to the knee on the sides, a knee-length suede jacket with more oriental silk along the collar and lining, several tight, sleeveless, corset-like tops; one in jade green oriental silk (Heather seemed to be very enthralled with the silk creations), another in black leather with straps held by silver clasps, a third in dark blue cotton with three shoulder straps that would often fall off the shoulder, a red one in oriental silk with black lining on the hem and down the center, and a final sunny yellow one with gold strands twirling around the bodice.

Ginny smiled and pulled the final piece of clothing from the box. It was a gorgeous cape, with a full hood and everything. But the breathtaking thing about it was the color. Ginny didn't know what ink Heather had used, but the effect was quite magical.

Every movement seemed to change the color of the cape. It was overall a grey-green-blue-silver color that shimmered with different strengths of those hues at different angles. It was a light, silky fabric, and felt so smooth against her skin, Ginny nearly gasped. She smiled at the silver buckle that clasped the cape together; it was a tiny snake.

Ginny set aside the clothes, already thinking of the thank-you note she would send Heather. The clothes were so beautiful! She wrapped the cape around her shoulders, clasping the small buckle together. She was surprised to find that it was rather warm, despite its lightness.

She reached for the second box, and found it full of shoes. She laughed, pulling out soft brown bicorn boots that reached mid-calf. A pair of sandals, decorated with wide, oriental straps matched several of her outfits. Pulling out two more pairs of boots (one tan and suede, and the other, clunky black lace-up ones) she smiled fondly at the last pair of shoes.

They were definitely magical, probably running on the same form of magic as Skye's hair. The shoes changed color depending on the wished of the wearer. They were high-heeled, with thick, supportive heels, and rounded toes. Ginny smiled and they changed from black to yellow. She set them aside.

She reached for her other gifts. She got a book on famous bands in England, both Muggle and wizarding, from Percy. Charlie had sent her several dragon scales, which were some of the most breathtaking things nature produced, even more so because they were from a Mongolian Moontail, a gorgeous silvery creature, of which he had sent several pictures of; the dragon occasionally spouting fire in the picture.

Bill had sent her a necklace with a rather large ruby set in gold; from a Gringotts expedition to Egypt, along with a pair of golden lion earrings from his wife, Fleur. The twins had sent her ten Galleons for her help in producing a new product (Playing By Ear boxes) and a handful of the small silver boxes themselves. Ginny smiled, reminding herself to keep one in her pocket for whenever Ron tried to lecture her on her behavior.

She noticed that Ron had been apparently too busy to bother with sending her a present or card, and she thought with grim satisfaction at the guilt he would feel when he opened her present: tickets to see the Chudley Canons play over the summer.

She'd scrounged to get three tickets, and those were Harry and Hermione's presents as well. Only Hermione had sent her anything; two boxes of assorted, Muggle-chocolates (filled with toffee, vanilla, orange, strawberry, chocolate, coconut, and caramel fillings) and a cleverly woven anklet of red, orange, and yellow strings, which Ginny tied around her ankle fondly.

Even Blaise had sent her something; a book on healing, a class which she found extremely interesting.

She was about to stand and get dressed when she noticed a last, small box on the floor, nearly shoved under her bed. She knelt down and picked it up, puzzled. She flicked it open with her thumb, and gasped.

On a long silver chain hung a glinting opal in the shape of a tear. It glinted beautifully and shone with more colors than Ginny could name. She gasped at the magnificence and splendor of it. She quickly put it around her neck, where it hung, just next to her heart, where it would be hidden by her blouses.

She looked in the box, and found a small piece of parchment, carefully folded several times. She opened it with shaking hands, the box dropping to the floor.

_For Ginevra,_

_The strongest woman I know. The woman who taught me how to cry. The woman who taught ME how to be strong. The most beautiful woman, the woman I love._

_Draco _

Ginny gasped, fingering the pendant. '-_I love'. _He loved her! She could have danced around the room right then, or, better yet, run down to the Slytherin common room to give Draco a big kiss and wake him up.

Her eyes were dancing merrily as she sat down on her bed, to write a letter to Heather, expressing her happiness and pleasure at her gifts, and describing the others, including Draco's.

Draco rolled over in his bed. It was still too early to wake up completely, especially on Christmas. He wanted to go back to sleep; there was nothing waiting for him, he was certain. No presents, unless Blaise had given him something. His parents never sent him anything anymore, and he had no other friends. Except for Ginny, and she wasn't exactly rolling in Galleons. He would do better to just stay in bed.

The excited murmurs and occasional squeals of joy from his fellow dormitory-mates, however, were determined to keep him awake. He sat up in bed and glanced wearily around. Today was looking bleak. Blaise was off to stay with his cousin and Heather, and Ginny was probably enjoying her Christmas with her brother and his friends.

He stood and got out of bed, nonetheless. He moved around to the front of his bed, and received several shocks, all in the shape of presents at the foot of his bed. He counted four in all; a major record for him, since he'd been about eight.

His mouth opened in surprise. He stared down at what was probably the most startling thing he'd seen in a while, not including Ginny standing up for him to her brother.

He knelt down and scooped up all the presents, depositing them on his bed. He read the tags carefully. One was from Blaise; that had been expected, TWO were from Ginny, and the fourth, surprisingly, was from Heather.

He opened Blaise's first. Inside was a dark green cloak with a silver catch. Draco smiled, remembering telling Blaise that his old one was worn out and three inches too short. He would appreciate the heavy garment, what with the freezing winter months coming up.

He folded the cloak neatly and set it on his pillow. He turned to his remaining presents, getting an old, almost unfamiliar feeling of excitement. He had presents! Plural! PresentS. He nearly laughed out loud.

He reached for Ginny's but stopped. No, he'd save those for last. He picked up Heather's present, grinning a little. He'd sent her a gift, for some reason, he'd felt it was the thing to do, as Ginny was sending Blaise something. He's sent her a silver lion's head pendant. Pendants were one of the few things he had; his great-great-aunt had left to him, under the mistaken assumption that he was a girl, a vast collection of pendants and jewelry. Several he had pawned, and it kept him going and able to buy himself things his parents denied him (they'd been first angry with him for refusing to get the Mark, and then his father had been imprisoned, and his mother fled the country with all their money).

He opened the box and nearly gasped. Inside was a complete outfit, no doubt from Heather's Book Of Shadows. He had to hand it to her, as he pulled the clothes from the box, he couldn't help but admire her skill. There was a pair of black corduroy briefs, much like his Quidditch pants, and a thick, smooth black jacket that reached just past his knees, but only buckled to about his stomach, in small silver buttons. A pair of shiny black boots with silver buckled added the final touch.

Draco smiled. The girl did have a way with clothes, and Ginny's gift of the book had been an intelligent and wise one.

He looked down from one box to the other, at his only two surprises left. He felt semi-ashamed that he hadn't thought she'd get him anything because of her family's poverty.

He reached for the smaller one and pulled the ribbon and lid off. He grinned and his stomach rumbled. She'd baked him his own Christmas dessert feast. Chocolate cakes, peanut brittle, cinnamon and almond nutbread, and small balls of some cake-like substance. He bit cautiously into one and smiled. She'd made him bourbon puffs.

While there wasn't enough alcohol in the pastries to cause inebriation, they still had a sharp taste, combined with cinnamon, nutmeg and powdered sugar.

He remembered when their old house-elf had made bourbon pastries when he was younger. He'd liked them a lot, nearly making himself sick on them.

He set aside his sweets, with a couple more swipes and bites. Brushing his hands on his pants, and picked up the last package. It was rather heavy and very large. He pried the lid of the silver box open and gasped, spewing crumbs of cake on his lap. Wiping it off, he swallowed his mouthful.

He dipped a hand in the box and pulled out a large, knitted blanket. It was thick and pliable; while not as smooth as silk, it was infinitely softer. He spread it out before him and marveled at her handiwork, for it was obviously hers.

It was made of, again, a dark green. But this green put the green of his dark green bed covers to shame. It was so rich and pure, it looked like it was almost unreal; just a color, and not fabric. Woven intricately were two silver snakes, winding around each other in a complicated pattern. Along the bottom, in more silver, read the words: _For What Could Be And For What Already Is. _

He smiled. She was brilliant. He was happier than ever that he'd sent her the pendant; his personal favorite, which he'd transformed into a tear shape to fit his meaning.

He stood hastily. Suddenly, the day had improved. He'd go see Ginny. If he caught her before she got to the Great Hall, he had a chance to convince her into having breakfast with him; almost no one was at school, and several people (her brother and friends included) had already seen them kissing.

He quickly pulled on the outfit Heather had sent him. It fit perfectly. He suddenly understood the odd, calculating looks the younger girl had been giving him; she was visually measuring him.

He stood and left his dormitory, quickly stashing his presents away in his trunk.


	9. Holidays Part 2: The Christmas Monkeys ...

**Author's Note:** Sizzle sizzle. Ooh, electric energy is just sparking from my fingertips. HAHAHAHA. I love having complete control over my computer. (Singing in a sing-song voice and dancing around room.) _I am the Queen of short-cuts, I am the Master of loopholes, weeeeeeeee!_ Sorry, glad to get that out of my system, I'm just so happy I can actually upload again. RIGHT, SO: PAY ATTENTION! This chapter (if you can't guess by the chapter title) is a rather sad one. Perhaps I'll just stop uploading here...Nah. Read and Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** ARRGGHHHH! Not mine, unless it is, and if it's not, it belongs to effing J. effing. K. effing. Rowling!...effing.

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 9: Holidays – Part 2: The Christmas Monkeys of Hate**

Ginny smiled up at Ron fondly. He was gesturing animatedly, waving his hands about, his face red. He was apparently shouting at the top of his lungs, but Ginny really couldn't know that; she was using the new product of Fred and George's.

It was a little sound box you put in your ear, which carried every song imaginable: you simply had to think of the beginning, or any other part of the song to start it playing in your head. Right now, the Playing By Ear boxes weren't on the market, but she was glad Fred and George had sent some to her early for Christmas.

Ginny smiled, unfazed, up at Ron, who was still motioning wildly. As soon as Ron had started berating her for letting Draco kiss her, and not emasculating him, she'd inconspicuously slipped the PBE box in the dipping cup of flesh inside her ear.

Listening to the British Muggle group, Queen, well known in both the wizarding world and non-wizarding one, Ginny smiled again. She would have to remember to send the twins a large batch of her bourbon puffs: crumbly balls of cake-like substance infused with cinnamon, nutmeg, bourbon, and powdered sugar.

"Fine, Ron. I have to get back to work. I'll see you at dinner tonight." She grinned up at him. He stopped flailing his arms about and stared down at her, uncomprehendingly, as a song blazed in Ginny's ear.

_Is this the real life?_

_Is this just fantasy?_

_Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality_

_Open your eyes_

_Look up to the skies and see…_

_I'm just a poor boy; I need no sympathy_

'_Cause it's easy come; easy go_

_Little high; little low_

_Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me_

_To me…_

Ginny glanced up at Ron. He was talking again. She deftly removed the PBE box from her ear, fingering it carefully.

"-lad you came to your senses, Gin. I was starting to worry about you. Well, since that's taken care of, I guess I'll leave you to your work." He didn't move, though. "You're looking much happier, Gin. I always knew this would work out. You'll be great." He waved as he walked off, leaving a thoroughly confused, but not too perturbed Ginny behind.

Quoting the immortal Freddy Mercury, she whispered to herself as she slipped the box back in her ear, "Nothing really matters to me."

That wasn't entirely true; there was one thing, right now, that mattered to her.

Draco.

She stood, standing stiffly from the armchair she'd been occupying for the past hour. She looked down at her out fit and smiled, glad she hadn't waited to send Heather a thank-you note.

She was wearing her mother's green sweater-top along with the deep green pleated skirt Heather had sent her, and heavy black tights, with a warming spell. Her new clunky black boots felt heavy as she moved around.

She smiled to herself. Draco was probably still asleep now. She ran back up to her room and grabbed her broom and her shimmering cloak. She glanced around, but everyone had already left for the breakfast feast. Perfect. She thought, grinning to herself as she kicked off from her window.

Draco walked towards the doors to the Great Hall in higher spirits than he could ever remember being in. Everything was going as well as he could hope for, possibly even better. He glanced up ahead of him, noticing three very familiar backs. He sneered. This day was getting even better, and big brother Ron would probably try to pick a fight with him anyways.

He snuck up behind the 'Dream Team', ready to make some snide comment. Ron's words cut him short, though.

"Thank the gods she's not really serious about Malfoy." Draco took a step back, but followed behind them. "Thanks for agreeing to take her, Harry. I know she's just my little sister and everything, but hey, she'd pretty enough, and I know you'll treat her better than that git Malfoy." He shuddered, and to Draco's surprise, Hermione hit him soundly on the back.

"Ron!" She admonished. "You don't know how Malfoy treated Ginny! He might have been actually good to her. Heaven knows he's been less of a prat these days. But did you think of that? No. You just immediately assumed that it was just Malfoy being the Malfoy you know. He's changed, Ron. Even I can see it. Why won't you just let her do what she wants? You never worry about her, or even really, care about her, any other time. Did you even look at her present?" She asked sharply.

Ron went a little pink and stammered "uh, well, no…I…there were other…I was kind of busy." He admitted. Hermione glowered at him. "Well, I wasn't too busy to take a peek and do you know what? She got me, and you" she rounded on Harry, finger pointing, before turning to Ron again "and you, if you'd bothered to look, tickets to see the Chudley Canons play this summer."

Ron's jaw dropped open and Harry snorted. "C'mon, Hermione. It's Malfoy for the love of God!" He spat.

Hermione whirled on him with a look that would have made even Draco quail. "You have no room to talk, Harry. You ignored the girl, even teased her and poked fun at her for six years. And now, suddenly, you find her irresistible because she's with your worst enemy. You didn't even look at her present either! Just leave her alone!" She fumed.

"Hey, she wants to go to the dance with me! She still wants me, so I guess Malfoy doesn't mean that much to her as you thought, so just give it up, Hermione." Harry yelled, and he and Ron stomped into the Great Hall, leaving Hermione standing alone, and downright furious.

Draco's mind was reeling. Ginny promised Potter she'd go to the dance with him? Emptiness consumed Draco. He felt sick and tired alternately. He focused on the one thing in his line of vision; the bushy-haired Mudblood he'd hated since his first year.

Only now she'd stood up for him. Perhaps she wasn't as bad as he thought. He strode up to her as she started to move towards the Great Hall again. "Granger." He called softly. She whirled around to face him, her brown eyes startled.

"Malfoy?" She asked, surprised to see him coming towards her without the customary sneer. This time, it was replaced by a speculative look.

Draco grabbed her wrist and pulled her down a hallway and into the nearest empty classroom before she had a chance to say anything. He closed the door behind him and turned on the Gryffindor Head Girl.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, sinking into a desk, looking tired and somehow, older.

Draco frowned. "Is she going with Potter?" He asked, clenching his teeth. Hermione bit her lip. "I'm assuming so. Ron talked to her a little while ago, apparently about you and her, and he said he told her she would go with Harry to the dance or no one at all."

She glanced nervously up at him before continuing. "And, supposedly, she said 'fine'." Suddenly she stood, face contorted in anger. "Ron really pisses me off sometimes. Harry too. They just won't leave her alone! They've not paid the slightest attention to her in six years, and now, just because she's going with someone they don't like, they think they can just barge into her life and take their places there." She slammed a tiny fist onto the desktop. "It's not right!"

Draco, slightly stunned by this passionate outburst, stepped back. She turned her gaze to him. "I don't know if Ginny really is going or not, nor do I know how you treat her. But I do know that she's been happy lately, and that she doesn't like Harry, at least not that way. So, if you're willing to take care of her, I won't stand in your way."

She held up a finger threateningly. "But I am warning you: Head Girl or not, if you hurt her, I'll hex you into the next dimension!"

Draco felt a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, though the overwhelming sadness and anger at Ginny smothered it. He had to go find her. Better yet, perhaps he'd just crawl into bed and never come out. He couldn't deal with her telling him she didn't want to see him anymore. He'd just die, though it sickened him as a Malfoy that anyone had gotten under his skin to the point of utter dependence.

He stood, giving Hermione a thoughtful glance. "Well, thanks Granger. I suppose." He stuck out his hand grudgingly. She stared at it for a second before taking it in her own. She pumped it quickly before dropping it. "I love Ginny, Malfoy. She's a very special person, though I think you've figured that out for yourself, as Harry never did. I just want to see her happy; she deserves it. Remember what I said." She stood and exited the room.

Draco sat for a moment before following suit, heading back up to the Slytherin common room; he'd lost his appetite.

Blaise sunk down deeper into the plush green bed in his (rather Janet's) room. Sighing, Heather did the same. Both had just awoken, and were shooting each other shy smiles.

After the initial shock of seeing their dance teacher pop up from the roof of Janet's car, the couple were quite elated to find that Skye and Janet had not only gone to Hogwarts together (and Skye had been in Gryffindor!), but were living together! Skye and Janet were a couple!

The idea was new, but an utterly adorable one; the pair were quite cute together, and Blaise and Heather felt more at ease than with most boy-girl couples, excluding Draco and Ginny. For one thing, the snogging was kept at a minimum, as Blaise and Heather agreed to do the same for their benefit.

They had arrived back at Janet's spacious home (nowhere near as large as Zabini manor, but not so small that Blaise and Heather got their own rooms, while Skye and Janet slept out on a fold-out couch in the living room) rather late, Janet shepherding them off to the rooms before they could protest.

Both had slept soundly after a long journey on an uncomfortable train. Waking up early in the morning, they'd met the quaintest picture in the living room before quietly sneaking off back to Blaise's temporary room. In the living room, which had been decorated in slight Muggle fashion, with a large, ornament-adorned fir tree, were Janet and Skye. Sprawled out on the king-sized mattress, the pair was fast asleep.

Skye was snoring gently, her bubble-gum colored head rising and falling with every breath Janet (on whose chest she'd fallen asleep) took. Janet had one arm wrapped under Skye's back, and Skye had snuggled up into a ball, one arm across Janet's midsection, which was bare where her large tee had ridden up to her ribs, and the other resting peacefully on her stomach, which was covered by Janet's other hand. Their legs disappeared into a tangle of sheets, but it was apparent that they were entwined, wrapping the pair close in slumber.

Blaise glanced nervously at Heather, to see how she'd taken the shock; after all, he had lived with Janet for several months, and he knew what to expect. To his surprise, Heather was grinning softly. "Those two are so perfect for each other." She whispered softly.

Blaise's face exploded into a smile. "Sound like anyone else you know?" He teased, wrapping his arms around her waist as her pulled her back on the bed. Heather smiled and fell back asleep, ready to miss Christmas if she could just stay in Blaise's arms all day.

Ginny lowered herself over her broom: a Starstripe XFS. It was a European model, and not too fast, but it was comfortable, sleek, and turned on a dime. She flew up higher, careful to stay in the shadows of the castle.

Heather had once pointed out the Slytherin dormitory windows, on a walk with her several weeks before in attempt to get away from the Dream Team for just a while. Ginny was now glad she had.

She flew up to the windows, which were only viewable if you were looking for them, and in the right spot. Carefully bringing her broom to a hovering standstill, she peered around the edge of the window. It was closed, and she could barely see through the thick glass. She leaned in closer.

Her heart did double-time. Draco was there! And the rest of the room was empty, the other Slytherins probably down at breakfast. She leaned over the handle of her broom, pulling her wand out from her back pocket. "Alohomara." She whispered, delighted as the window opened readily.

Draco was lying on his side in bed, his back turned towards her. Ginny leaned down and flew in through the window, careful not to hit the sides. She turned and pulled the window nearly shut, afraid the snick of the lock might wake him.

She flew back over to where Draco was sleeping. Hovering over him, she smiled. He looked so peaceful and angelic in sleep. He wasn't frowning or sneering, or smirking, but he wasn't smiling either. His mouth was drawn in a line and his hair was in a mess, half-covering his eyes.

She reached down to push a strand from his face. His grey eyes snapped open, causing her to jump back, nearly falling from her broom.

Draco sat up straight. "Ginny?" He asked as she dismounted from her broom and walked over to his bedside. She sank down comfortably at the foot of his bed, smiling.

"Merry Christmas." She grinned, leaning in to kiss him.

Draco turned away, avoiding her touch. Ginny sat back, confused and hurt. "Draco?" she asked, tentatively. "Are you alright?"

Draco sneered. "Oh, I'm fine. You little bitch!" He shouted suddenly, surprising even himself, nearly scaring Ginny off the bed.

Ginny's eyes were wide with shock and alarm. "Draco!" She gasped as he grabbed her shoulders roughly, shaking her.

"WHY?!" He screamed. "Why did you do it?! Why did you make me fall in love with you so you could just go back to Potter?! You lying , sneaking, hateful bitch!" He shouted, shaking her harder and harder.

Ginny's head pounded, and she could almost feel her brain slamming into her skull as Draco shook her violently. She reached up, clasping at his forearms. "D-Draco, p-please s-s-stop!" She managed, on the verge of tears, and nearly biting her tongue off as her head snapped back forcefully.

Draco finally let her go and she tumbled back, hitting her already aching head on the footboard. She moaned softly, feeling blackness edging in around her. She closed her eyes, though refrained from fainting. _Why can't everything just stop pounding?_ She thought, gingerly touching her head.

Draco's eyes were large and unbelieving as he stared down at his hands. He looked from them to the only person he truly cared for, realizing that he'd hurt her with his own two hands. He'd abused her, now both emotionally and physically. Why did she always bring him to such acts of violence? And when would she finally decide she'd had enough?

He reached out to touch her and felt a sharp pang in his chest as she pulled away, looking up at him with hurt, scared eyes. She huddled against the footboard, her arms clutched desperately around her, rocking herself, waiting for the next blow.

Draco's mind flashed back to an image of his mother, doing the same thing. His father had hurt her and she had pulled herself into the same, scared, protective ball. He was being like his father. The thought disgusted him almost as much as the fact that he'd hurt Ginny.

He reached out again and she squeezed her eyes shut, fat tears running down her cheeks. She tensed, as if prepared for him to strike her. She jumped when his hand touched hers lightly. "Ginny," he said, using her nickname tentatively. "I-"

Ginny glanced up at him, her eyes shining with tears, large and frightened. She looked very much like a doe right then; one that was staring down the barrel of a gun.

Draco winced, stroking her arm with his hand. "Oh, gods, I'm sorry." He whispered, touching her softly in hopes that she would stop looking so terrified. She shuddered, trying not to be comforted by his caress.

"Ginny, I'm sorry." Draco started. "But are you going to the dance with Potter?" He asked, grasping her arm lightly.

Ginny recoiled from him, eyes squeezing shut. Draco frowned, and pulled back his hand. "Are you?" He asked, a little harder this time.

Ginny finally opened her eyes, peeking up at him from under her lashes, through blurring tears. "O-of c-course not, D-Draco." She said, her voice trembling, fighting back sobs.

Draco scowled. She couldn't even tell him the truth: he could tell from the way her voice wavered and she avoided his eyes. He cupped her chin and brought it up, forcing her to face him.

Ginny bit on the inside of her cheek at his bruising grasp. She stared into his eyes and actually gasped. Instead of the anger she'd expected to see in their murky grey depths, there was hurt and betrayal. Ginny's mouth opened, but no words came out. She had no idea what had happened to cause him to be this way, but he was greatly upset.

"Don't lie to me, Ginny." He growled warningly, his hand moving down to her throat, squeezing gently on it, placing only a little pressure on her windpipe. Ginny's breath hitched, but she refused to cry or scream, though she desperately wanted to; he looked ready to kill. She knew, though, that he'd never intentionally hurt her.

She hoped.

Draco glared at her with anger, hatred, hurt, and want, all wrapped into one very confused blonde boy. "I hate liars. I had to put up with enough of it from my father and my mother. I will not tolerate anything but the truth from you." His fingers tightened.

"I want some answers. And try not to lie. I could squeeze the life from you so easily. It wouldn't take much, Just a little more force, and no more Ginevra Weasley. And that would be a shame, wouldn't it?" He sneered.

Ginny took a shuddering breath, which Draco felt under his fingers. She knew she was taking a big risk. "Would you really, Draco? I don't think so. Go ahead. I won't even scream. It's just like you said; a little squeeze and I'll be out of your hair forever. You won't ever see me again. I'll never bother you anymore. So just get it over with, because this, here, this is torture. I can't stand that pain in your eyes, even more so to know that I might have caused it. I don't know what's wrong, or what I did, but if it has anything to do with Harry; I'm not going to the dance with him. I never was, nor ever said I would. So you must have been mistaken. Not that it really matters, though. I'll be gone in a few moments, as soon as you squeeze your fingers. I can feel the strength in your hand even as it rests there; it could drain the life from me effortlessly."

She reached up and put her hand to his, almost urging his fingers to tighten on her neck.

Draco looked from her eyes, not in the least bit frightened, and down at where her hands were on his, which was shaking violently. Ginny bit her lip as she watched his internal debate going on, flitting through his eyes as he recorded horror and disgust. But was it aimed at her, or himself?

Draco's mind raced as he pulled his hand from her throat, leaving behind red finger marks, the scene dancing around his mind like a carousel. All the emotions played in his heart to the carousel's melody, picking up the pace as the seconds flew by.

Ginny was shaking a little now; the realization of what passionate anger Draco was capable of was threatening to overtake everything she knew of him. She found that she was desperately trying to remind herself of all the good things that he was.

Draco stood, pacing fretfully as Ginny simply shuddered and glanced down at the covers of his bed, which she was subconsciously entangling her long fingers in. Something deep inside told her it was best to stay quiet and let him carry out his own thoughts and actions. He would either apologize, get mad, or hit her. Ginny twisted the green cloth in her fingers, hoping that whatever he decided wasn't the latter.

Meanwhile, Draco was on the verge of insanity. His two sides were doing battle for complete control of the situation; on one hand, he wanted to yell and kick and rant and rage, mostly at her, but Potter as well. He wanted to grab her by the arms and shake some sense into her, as he'd done before. Before, he had almost wanted to hit her, he was so enraged. But on the other hand, he could almost see himself apologizing for his violent actions and doing anything and everything in attempt to make her stop trembling. She looked so scared, and it hurt like hell that she was scared of him.

Draco ran and shaky hand through his hair, tangling and spiking it. He looked over at where Ginny was still sitting on the edge of his bed, body racked with shivers and uncontrollable spasms, her eyes wide as she bit her lip nervously.

Draco's eyes darkened. What was wrong with her? Couldn't she see that he'd never hurt her on purpose? Why was she so frightened of him? Didn't she know that she was the only thing that mattered in his life anymore?

Fury and resentment welled up in the young irate blonde. Why didn't she understand? He strode over to her, grasping her arms tightly again. This time he didn't shake her, though his grip was bruising.

Ginny simply stared up at him, her eyes wide with fright. Her normally lightly colored cheeks were devoid of their rosy tint. Her entire appearance was a pale and drawn one.

"WHY?" Draco yelled, squeezing her arms again.

Ginny's jaw trembled as she tried to force words past the choking lump in her throat. "W-why what, D-Draco?" She stammered, as if speaking was a new experience for her.

Draco scowled, but still didn't shake her. His eyes were cold, hard, demanding, and in the tiniest specks that only Ginny could see; hurt. "Why would you do this to me? How could you drag me along when all you cared about was Potter? Did you ever even care?" He hissed, not realizing the near bone-crushing force he was applying to her arms.

Ginny inhaled sharply as she felt her arms growing weak from lack of circulation. She could feel her pulse beating a sound tattoo where his fingers dug into her flesh. "Damn it, Draco, what's gotten into you?" She whispered, trying to find the boy she knew; not the cruel, bullying one, but the one who had given her the most gorgeous kisses and looks. The one who held her like she was a precious treasure and rolled around in the snow with her. The one who punched guys for her.

Draco glowered at her, and her heart sank. She'd lost him; the person she had worked so hard on bringing to the stiff outer surface in him was gone.

"Answer the question, damnit." He growled deep in the back of his throat.

Ginny sighed heavily; so heavily that it almost came out as a moan. She lowered her head, tears prickling at her eyes. "I already told you, I'm not interested in Harry Potter! I don't know why you won't accept that, but I don't care about him anymore! He's actually slightly attracted to me, but it doesn't matter! D'you know why?" She asked, suddenly bringing her face up to look at him, not really caring that he could see her distress.

"Because for the past few months, there has only been one person for me. Someone I like a lot, and if he'd let me, someone I love. Someone who I thought cared about me. Someone who I know exists, though he tries to hide behind this tough exterior. This stupid sodding someone is sitting here in front of me, hurting me, in both senses of the word. And I still can't help but love him." Tears were running freely down her face as she stood abruptly, taking advantage of Draco's astonished temporary paralysis.

She rushed over to her broom and hastily swung a leg over the handle, flying straight at the window, regardless to the loud BANG! It made as she rammed it open. She didn't care; she just had to get out of there.

She kept flying. Past the castle, past where she should have turned to go back to her room, past the entrance. She needed time to think. More realistically, she needed somewhere to cry where no one would ask questions.

Ginny flew over the lake, and to the edge of The Forbidden Forest. She didn't care if it was against rules; she wanted to be alone, and at the moment, she would almost welcome a werewolf or vampire.

She landed softly on a small peninsula, jutting out into the frozen lake. The powdery snow sunk under her feet a little, but other than that, it was deathly silent. Only the whisper of the wind could be heard, and it was to that comforting sigh that Ginny cried, harder than she'd cried in years. Harder than she'd cried in Draco's arms the day before. Only now, there was no Draco to comfort her. There was only the soothing murmur of the breeze to alleviate her pain.


	10. The Overwhelming Pain of Devotion

**Author's Note: **Acckkk! More angst and drama. Uh-oh. Things could be getting a little rocky for our love-sick teens. Ha. Um...this was one of my favorite chapters to write, though I know that those of you rooting for the character's happiness won't like it too much. Hehehehe. But please, read it, and try to enjy it, because I really love this chapter. Thanks to all my reviewers.

**Disclaimer: ** Same as the last effing nine chapters. What's mine is mine, what's not is J.K. Rowlings'.

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 10: The Overwhelming Pain of Devotion**

Draco stood for several minutes, staring at the open window, which swayed open and shut continually with each new gust of wind. She was gone. Those three words reverberated in his mind, assaulting him with each echo and increasing until his head was practically pounding with the realization of what he'd done.

He'd hurt her. He hadn't meant to, he just couldn't control himself. He wanted her so badly, and to think that she didn't even care…was like a fate worse than death. Death he could cope with; it was quick, and for the most part painless. After the act itself, there was blissful peace. Nothingness. But a lifetime without Ginny Weasley was bleak and desolate.

It had taken him to nearly beat her up to realize that he loved her.

With the force that he hated everything else in the world, he loved her. For all the contempt he had for everything else, he held only passion and want for her. Suddenly, she wasn't just another girl. She had never really been just another girl, as she was a Weasley and a Gryffindor. But she wasn't just some meaningless girl.

Draco shook his head. He was thinking of her as if she was included in the rest of his life. But she wouldn't be; she had already left it, so suddenly and after such a short time. She was gone before he could realize that he'd lost the most important thing in the world to him. With a start, Draco realized that he had to tell her…everything.

He had to tell her he was sorry, he had to tell her he hadn't meant to hurt her, and most of all, he had to tell her that he loved her.

Making up his mind, he raced down to the common room and bolted out the portal, nearly skidding down the stairs. He raced, faster than he'd ever run inside before. He flew down the stairs, landing with a jarring thud, which he ignored as he burst into the Great Hall. Several bemused eyes stared up at him.

Glancing around the one table being used, Draco only saw one red-head, and that was Ron, sitting between Harry and Hermione, all of whom were staring at him as if he was insane. He rushed up to the trio, panting slightly.

"Where's Ginny?" He asked, even though he knew the answer; it was written in their puzzled faces.

Ron went a bright shade of red and curled his fists. "I don't know, Malfoy. Why don't we go check out in the hallway?" He asked, his voice deep, low, and menacing.

Draco nodded enthusiastically. He didn't care about Weasley's petty tirade; he just needed to find Ginny. Although, the comfort he was gaining from finding that she hadn't run off into Potter's arms was relieving him of his frantic anger.

The odd quartet left the dining hall. The moment they stepped across the threshold into the hallway, Ron was on Draco, fists flying. "You sodding git!" He screamed as Harry and Hermione peeled him off the stunned Slytherin.

Dragging him away into the nearest corner, Harry and Hermione gave Draco wary glances, though one green stare held the slightest bit of grim satisfaction, while the other brown ones held a touch of sadness and disappointment.

"You thought you'd get away with snogging my sister? Eh, you prat?! I could rip your bal-" Hermione pinched him sharply with her fingernails "-er, head, head off! What have you done to her?" He screeched.

Draco rolled his eyes, poking his cheek tenderly, feeling the stinging blow Ron had dealt him. "Not as much as I'd care to tell you about." He sneered, delighting in the red-head before him, whose facial coloring was almost corresponding with his hair.

Ron's jaw dropped, Harry made as if to retch, and Hermione clicked her tongue exasperatedly. "Really, you're both behaving like children. Ron- Ginny's old enough to make her own decisions. Unless she comes to you, I suggest you let her live her life, even if it includes Malfoy. And you-" she turned to Draco, Ron still firmly in her grasp. "-you will take care of that girl, and if we ever hear of you treating her badly, we'll murder you and make it look like an accident." All three males gave her a flabbergasted gaze, under which she went a little pink, but her eyes glinted with a hard, serious edge.

Draco flinched inwardly, thinking of the early morning's episode. "I just need to know where Ginny is." He said simply.

Ron and Harry were still coping with the fact that they had to be partially civil to Malfoy, so Hermione answered his question. "Last I knew, she was in the common room." She shrugged and let go of Ron, beginning to ascend the staircase. "I was going to go grab a book, so I'll check on her, if you'll just wait a tick." She bounded up the stairs and out of sight, leaving three archenemies standing awkwardly together.

Ron glanced up at the staircase, as if the make sure Hermione was really gone. He turned back to Draco, a look of malice and hatred in his eyes, which were so like Ginny's, except for the expression they held.

Where Ginny's were warm with love, Ron's were hardened in pure disgust.

"You know, she doesn't care about you, Malfoy." Ron said snidely, shooting Harry a sneaky glance. "She wants to go to the dance with Harry. She doesn't even like you." He sneered, not really sure if it was true or not, but wallowing in the anger that flashed through the other boy's silver eyes.

Draco composed himself. The last time he'd heard this news, he'd lost Ginny. He wasn't about to do something stupid all over again, and though there was nothing left for him to lose, he didn't think she would be too happy with him if he, per say, killed her brother. "You know, Weasley," he began, surprised to find his voice weary and defeated "right now, it doesn't matter whether or not she likes me. But I have to tell her that I do. I just need to let her know that." He said, detesting the almost pleading edge it took on.

Ron's jaw dropped and he exchanged a look with Harry. They were saved from answering that strange statement by Hermione's re-entrance. She gave them all a quick, relieved glance before making her way down the rest of the stairs. "Good, you refrained from killing each other." She remarked casually.

"Barely." Ron muttered under his breath.

Hermione shook her head as she turned to Draco. "Sorry, she's not up there. But her broom's gone, so she might be out by the lake; she goes there a lot. If she's not there, you can always try the Quidditch pitch." She shrugged her shoulders helplessly.

Draco frowned and turned around , getting ready to leave. As if on second thought, or as though Ginny were perched on his shoulder like an unwavering conscience, Draco about-faced and gave Hermione a little bow. "Thanks." He said, whirling around to go grab his Mercury 500, the latest in the new Cosmic line from his room.

Ginny wiped the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her cloak. She stood from where she'd fallen, legs suddenly nonexistent, to the ground. Wiping soft snow from her cloak, she glanced around with pained eyes. She took off the shimmering outer garment, leaving on just her thin sweater; she wanted to just be numb for a while, hoping that her overactive mind would do the same.

It was Christmas, and she was sitting out in the cold; alone, freezing, and crying. She should be up in the common room with Harry, Hermione, and her brother, and of course, the other Gryffindors. She should be enjoying her presents and a hot, sumptuous Christmas breakfast. Instead, she was by herself, with no presents and no meal.

_SNAP!_

Ginny whirled around. Or at least, she thought she was by herself. She could have sworn she'd heard a twig breaking. She looked around, but saw nothing. She shook herself mentally. _Come on, Ginny, girl. There's nothing there; you're just letting your imagination get to you. _

And that was when something lunged from the trees, knocking her down as it tore at her.

Draco flew over the lake. It was frozen around the edges, but the very center was still dark and watery. Ginny wasn't along the banks closer to the school. Draco glanced over at where The Forbidden Forest met the edge of the lake.

She wouldn't…would she? Deciding to at least check, Draco aimed his broom over to the other bank. His grey eyes scanned the shore, looking for the telltale sign of her red-hair. He was about to turn around and head for the Quidditch pitch when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of red. But…it was too dark…

He whirled around and nearly fell from his broom.

"Shit!" He bellowed, diving recklessly to where a serious amount of blood was staining the snow a deep crimson color.

Blaise stirred from a deep, peaceful sleep. He shivered slightly; the room was a little cold, and he realized that he didn't have any blankets on. He sat up slightly, resting on his elbows. A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as he looked down in the bed next to him.

Heather was curled up on her side, still in her nightclothes from the night before; it only seemed to be around ten or so. A simple pair of baggy art pants (very much paint-spattered, and slipping down her hips a little) and an old tee. She could have been wearing a gorgeous silk nightgown from the way he was looking at her. Showing an unusual amount of tenderness, he tucked an errant strand of black hair that had escaped her braided pigtails behind her ear.

He was so content just watching her sleep, he didn't hear the door to the room creak open. "Uh…Blaise?" Blaise glanced up. Janet's head popped around the door, and it was apparent from her mussed hair that she had just awoken from the comfortable scene he and Heather had left several hours before.

Blaise smiled and slipped off the bed, careful not to wake Heather. He padded over to the door in his black silk night wear. Janet bit back a grin, glancing at the sleeping form on the bed, leading Blaise out to the living room.

The pull-out bed was still out, but empty, and from the cheery whistling coming from the kitchen (and the delectable smell coming from the same place), Blaise concluded that Skye was fixing breakfast; Janet had never been much of a cook.

Blaise turned back to his cousin, just in time to see the knowing smile disappear from her face, though it still reflected in her eyes. "What are you smirking at?" He asked, plopping down at the small oak breakfast table. It was lucky there were only four of them; that was all the tiny table could take.

Janet did the same, choosing the seat across from Blaise. She gave him a serious look, almost as if she was debating whether or not to tell him something.

Blaise's curiosity was immediately peaked as she obviously had something on her mind. "What?" He asked, bordering on exasperation.

Janet glanced down at her hands, twisting a small silver ring around her finger. "I know I'm not your mother, and all, but I do feel that I should at least say something, or lay down some form of rules. I mean, this is my house, and you are only seventeen. I just don't want you two to get into any kind of trouble, like…" she trailed off and actually went a little pink, throwing an unconscious glance in the direction of the bedroom they'd just left.

Blaise's eyebrows jumped up into his hair as he caught on to what she was stressing about. She didn't want him and Heather to get …shall we say? Physically, at least. Obviously the thought of her younger cousin, almost like a younger brother, going 'under-cover-sheet-dancing' with a young girl in her bed was a bit disconcerting.

The younger boy let out a soft chuckle as his cousin searched for the right words to use. "Jan, Heather and I aren't at that stage yet, after all we are just kids," _Not that I'd have any objections if Heather was up to it_. He thought silently. "But even if we were, you're one to talk!" He laughed, recalling her loose position with Skye earlier.

Janet blushed at the fact that he'd seen her asleep with Skye, just as the woman of her affections entered the room. This time, her hair was a bright, festive cherry red. Blaise stared as she set down plates of steaming sausages, eggs, toast, pancakes, and biscuits. "Don't you ever just keep one hair color?" He asked, though careful to make his tone inquisitive and amused rather than rude and insulting. "What happens when you run out of colors to use?"

Skye flashed him a large grin. "Good questions. I just like to be different everyday. Most of the time it depends on my mood. Today I felt a little sad, but ultimately happy and alive," she shot Janet a warm look "so I wanted an appearance that matched that.

She shrugged, going back for orange juice and coffee.

Janet nodded towards the bedroom. "Do you want to go wake Heather up?" She asked gently. Blaise stood and walked back to the quiet room. Heather, however, was already awake, and beginning to come out on her own.

"Morning sleepy." He whispered, planting a kiss on the top of her head. Heather glanced up at him, frowning slightly. "I wish you weren't so damned tall." She pouted. "Or rather, I just wish I were taller. It's no fair; you have a kissing advantage. You just have to lean down. I practically-"

"Have to pull out a ladder?" Blaise smirked helpfully. Heather scowled, even more so (though it was difficult to pull off) when Blaise did exactly what she'd been complaining about. Pulling his lips from hers, he grinned. "Lucky me." He cracked, narrowly avoiding her smacking hand as they walked towards the appealing smells coming from the living room.

Ginny barely had time to be scared. When something hurtles towards you at the speed of a bludger, how can you have time to register fear? She scarcely had time to pull her wand from her pocket before the…thing…landed on her chest, knocking her roughly to the ground.

The creature…whatever it was, she couldn't tell; her vision was blocked by a mass of silvery fur…was trying desperately to bite her. Ginny reached up, and, dropping her wand, grabbed the thing's snout as it lowered towards her throat, teeth bared.

Ginny gasped, struggling for air and trying to get away, but also from fear. She was staring up into two yellow eyes. The eyes of a wolf. Though wolves were reported to reside in The Forbidden Forest, they tended to stay away from the part close to the castle, and avoided people. Werewolves on the other hand…

Ginny flailed frantically under the weight of the monster; still holding its' jaws tightly. If it was a werewolf (and she didn't have the time or sense of mind to figure out) she had to get away, fast.

So when the creature pulled out of Ginny's grasp and sunk its' yellowed fangs into her shoulder, Ginny screamed, mostly from pain, but also in panic.

White-hot pain poured through her veins and ate away at her muscles. She could feel the sensation of bone on bone as the thing burrowed its' teeth deeper into her skin.

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, blurring her already hazy vision. Then, the pressure was gone from her shoulder, although the agonizing pain lingered, throbbing to the frenzied beat of her heart.

Ginny opened her eyes a little wider and tried to sit up. And then the jaws were there again, tightening on her upper arm. "Aaaaggggghhhhhh!" Her scream echoed throughout the empty clearing, doing nothing to ease her feeling of helplessness and isolation from the rest of the world. Pain rammed into her as the creature jostled her arm in its' jaw, forcing her back down in the snow. She felt blackness edging in; she could see it in her peripheral vision.

She strained against the weight that seemed to be everywhere at once. The pain on the left side of her body (from both her shoulder and arm) was overwhelming, and she was on the verge of unconsciousness.

Ginny's eyes snapped open. She couldn't let that happen. With her free arm she felt alongside her in the snow. After a few fumbling seconds, her numb fingers finally closed around her wand. She shut her eyes again, but this time for concentration.

"Stupefy!" She shouted, voice rasping from the force of her cry, sounding desperate and wild even to herself. The cracking pressure on her arm subsided as a massive weight collapsed on her chest, crushing her last remains of breath from her lungs.

Ginny thrashed about violently, feeling her limbs aching from the fruitless struggle. She was growing wearier, colder, and completely breathless. Wedging her hands between her chest and the beast, she willed herself to use the last of her strength in pushing the thing's inert body off her own.

Ginny rolled over in the snow, taking a deep, shuddering breath as she lay on her side. She looked down.

Red.

Everything was red. Ginny gasped and backed up quickly, only to fall back down in the ruby snow. _Oh gods_. She thought, her breath coming with more difficulty and in short pants. _That's…my blood._ A wave of nausea swept over her, and she felt her stomach contract.

Nothing happened, but Ginny felt ready to be sick. She clutched a hand to her stomach, just to discover that it was covered in more of her blood. It was running down her chest and stomach, and her arm was completely soaked in the sticky red substance. _Oh my gods, it's my blood. It's my blood. Itsmyblooditsmyblooditsmyblooditsmyblooditsmyblood. Ohgodsitsmyblood._

She began to hyperventilate, sitting in the cold snow, her fingers and lips turning blue from cold, but she barely noticed it. All she could see was her blood. Understandable, since it seemed to be everywhere.

She could have been resting there for hours, even days, but it could have only been a few seconds. Somewhere among the thoughts of her blood, she suddenly realized with a cold shock just how much she had lost, and was still losing.

She collapsed in the soft snow, not noticing, or really, just not caring how cold it was against the bare skin of the back of her neck and hands. Unexpectedly, she felt a feeling of lightness bordering on euphoria come over her. She felt, strangely enough like laughing, which scared her, as she was beginning to think she had lost a bit too much blood.

And then she felt faint.

Moaning softly, she closed her eyes. She let the pain overtake her. She let the blackness creep in around her, let it overcome her body and mind, dimming her senses. She felt dull and tired and let her muscles relax into entropy. She stopped fighting it.

Ginny Weasley gave up.

Draco dove down lower and lower. At first, all he had seen was a wide circle of red spreading slowly as something that looked suspiciously like blood seeped into the snow.

And then he saw her. Her green sweater was barely noticeable underneath all the blood it was covered in, and her hair was also matted with the sticky substance; but it was her. There was no mistaking it.

He hardly realized there was a wolf's body next to hers. All he could see was her…and she was in trouble. Draco lowered himself down onto his broom handle, urging his broom to go faster. He didn't even bother to land; he just jumped off his still-moving broom, falling to his knees before scrambling towards Ginny's motionless form.

He crouched down, once he was beside her. He shook her shoulders gently, wincing slightly as he recalled doing something similar, but more forcibly. "Weasley? Weasley? Weasley, get up!" He was screaming now, frantic that she still wasn't moving.

He dropped to his knees. "Ginny! Ginny, damnit, get up! You can't do this to me. You've got to get up." She didn't move, and her breathing was growing steadily shallower. "GET UP!" He shouted, surprised to find tears leaking unbidden from his eyes. He rubbed her cheek, trying to make them light up with their normal pink tinge.

"Please, Ginny. Wake up. I…" he stared down at her, feeling immensely guilty and for the first time in his life…scared. Not even for himself, either. "…I love you, Ginny."

He knelt down and wrapped her in his arms, regardless of the thick flow of blood that was staining his immaculate robes. "Please, don't die on me."

"That's funny."

Draco pulled away to look down at her.

She was grinning softly, as though she was in a pleasant dream, not as though she'd just lost a ton of blood, and was probably bleeding to death in the stone cold snow. "I love you too, Draco."

Her chocolate eyes were half-shut, and she was in a great deal of pain, though from her light tone, it was somewhat dulled. That was not good. If she'd gone past feeling physical pain, she was on the brink of…he wouldn't think about that.

She opened her mouth again, and Draco saw a tiny line of blood seep from the corner, standing out in stark contrast to her unusually pale skin. She tried to say something, but before she could get the words out, her eyes were un-focusing and she was slipping back into darkness.

He suddenly realized how stupid he was. The first thing he should have done was to haul her up to the infirmary. Instead he had to get all emotional and…why did he have to get suddenly sentimental? For the first time (he was having quite a few 'firsts' today) he was wishing he could be stoic and dispassionate, like his father had drilled him to be so often.

Right now, though…

He scooped her up in his arms effortlessly and carried her limp body over to where his broom had fallen in the snow some ten feet away. Heaving her up onto the broom with him(with much difficulty), he sighed. This was going to be one hell of a long ride.


	11. Out of Characters

**Author's Note: **Hoohah! OK, I change my mind, I really loved writing this chapter...or at least the beginning. So I've added more Ron, Harry, and Hermione action. Just so you know, Hermione and Ginny are rather close, and Hermione (though she hates Draco's guts) is willing to give them a chance. Harry is also fighting inner demons, though he's much more relenting than Ron. Understandable, since Ginny's Ron's only sister, and only younger sibling. So if Ron seems like a git, he is, but it's only because he's worried about Ginny. Um...ooh, yes. You're all going to hate me, but I love killing off characters. Not that I did so in this chapter. (Or did I?) (Smirks evilly) You'll just have to read and find out. Ejoy!

**Disclaimer: **(Sighs, bashes head on wall, and continues). Mine is mine, all else is J.K. Rowlings'.

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 11: Out of Character(s)**

"Oy, mate, get yer stinking feet off my bed!"

Harry grinned and removed his green and gold-striped sock-clad feet from Ron's mattress. "Don't have to get in a tizzy. Besides, I just took a shower; they probably smell better than yours, although I don't want to find out." He smirked as Ron stuck his tongue out childishly at him.

Harry glanced down at his hands, suddenly looking contrite. "Do you reckon 'Mione was right? About Ginny, I mean?" He rubbed the back of his neck, settling back in his chair. "I feel a bit bad, I mean" he grimaced "we didn't even look at her presents."

Ron frowned and set down his box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "Yeah, I do feel a bit bad about that. But we treat her good, right?"

Harry nodded. "Damn good." He agreed.

"Better than that prat Malfoy." Ron scowled just thinking of his name. "Puts a worse taste in your mouth than a bogie-flavored bean." He pulled a face.

Harry frowned. "I was thinking, though. Hasn't Malfoy been acting odd lately?"

Ron was digging through his piles of holiday treats, listening to Harry distractedly. "What d'you mean?" He asked, pulling out a Chocolate Frog and unwrapping it.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. But like the other day in Defense Against the Dark Arts class when Professor Gillian was complimenting me on my Patronus demonstration."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, that was bloody brilliant. Wish I could pull that off." He muttered, popping the frog into his mouth.

Harry sighed in exasperation. "Exactly. And Malfoy didn't say anything."

Ron looked up, munching away on his candy. "And…?" He mumbled around his mouthful. He swallowed. "Should he have?"

Harry resisted the urge to slam his head into the wall. Ron was his best friend and all, but he could really be dense sometimes. "Whenever I do something like that in class, he makes some half-arsed comment about me; you know how he does." Harry prompted.

Ron nodded. "Oh yeah; that was a bit weird."

Harry groaned. "And in Potions, he helped Lavendar with her Strengthening Solution. And remember, he kept that bludger from hitting Hermione when we were watching his team practice. We weren't even supposed to be there, and he hates Hermione. He could have let it hit her, but he actually went out of his way to protect her. He's…changed." He said, though somewhat reluctantly.

Ron scoffed, going back to his Fizzing Whizbees. "Yeah right."

"MADAME POMFREY!"

The previously-attained peace and tranquility of the still hospital wing was blasted to smithereens as Draco flew in hurriedly.

"MADAME POMFREY, I NEED HELP!" He shouted, pulling his broom to a stop and swung a wobbly leg over the handle, trying not to drop Ginny.

He let his expensive broom clatter to the floor thoughtlessly as he heaved the seemingly lifeless body of Ginny Weasley onto the nearest empty bed, earning him several stares from the few students in the wing, ogling at him from the safety of their own beds.

The clacking of shoes against the hard stone floor announced the arrival of Madame Pomfrey. "What is it, Malfoy? Did you scratch yourself? Hmm? Bump into something? Are you dying because you stubbed your toe?"

Obviously she hadn't gotten over that whole hippogriff incident.

Draco stood aside so the nurse could see Ginny. He received a satisfying gasp.

"Merlin's beard!" She breathed, eyes growing round and sympathetic. "What's happened here?" She asked, hurrying over to check Ginny's pulse. It was weak and faint under the strong fingers of the school's nurse.

"Good heavens, this child has lost a lot of blood, hasn't she?"

Draco stared at her, half in disbelief, half in exasperation at her stupidity; both he and Ginny were covered in her blood, she had a couple of obviously deep gashes on her body, and she was unnaturally pale.

"No, she's just got a little cough; really, just give her some Pepper-Upper Potion and-OF COURSE SHE'S LOST A LOT OF BLOOD, YOU DIMWITTED DOLT! NOW ARE YOU GOING TO STAND HERE AND MAKE POINTLESS AND OBVIOUS STATEMENTS OR ARE YOU GOING TO DO SOMETHING?!"

Madame Pomfrey's jaw was hanging open most unbecomingly. "Well-I-it's just that-of course, I don't know what I was thinking." She hurried off as Draco flung himself into a chair next to Ginny's bedside. The girl two beds over cast him a wary look, and disappeared behind her curtain with a squeal as Draco snarled viciously at her.

Madame Pomfrey scurried back into the ward, her arms laden with bandages and tubes of some bright purple substance. Draco nimbly leapt to his feet, hovering over the nurse as she dumped the supplies at the foot of the hospital bed.

"So Malfoy, what happened? I haven't looked at it in depth, but it looks quite like teeth marks." She gave him a hard glance. "Animal teeth marks." She added, business-like once more.

Draco chewed on his lip thoughtfully. "I think there was a wolf or something next to her, but I didn't really look at it too hard; I was too worried- uh, busy, trying to get Virgi-Weasley back."

Madame Pomfrey nodded and wiped away the congealing blood from the shoulder wound, inspecting it, especially the edges. "Well, it's not a werewolf bite, that's certain. The edges are too jagged; a werewolf's teeth are sharper and leave cleaner cuts. Also, there's no sign of the magical effects of the werewolf's bite. Still, even though it's just a regular wolf bite, she's still lost quite a bit of blood." She made a clicking noise in the back of her throat and pulled back. She reached for the bandages.

"Can I help?" Draco asked, surprising even himself. Madame Pomfrey shot him an incredulous look, then glanced at Ginny, and back again to Draco. She stared at him long and hard, giving him a speculative, almost measuring look.

Finally she nodded, more to herself than to Draco. "Help me get these bloodied things off her; I can't work with all this matted blood, and I need to see how extensive the damage is." She explained, moving over to the other side of the cot.

As Draco moved hesitantly to her clothes, Madame Pomfrey took out her wand and began muttering to herself, speaking a simple spell to cut strips of the bandage.

Draco's hands moved to the bottom of Ginny's now-red jumper. He gently peeled the cloth, hardened with sticky blood, from her skin. Some of the blood remained, spattering her stomach with red and brown smears. Draco pulled up more and suddenly started, jumping back from the girl and dropping the cloth.

_What the hell?_

First of all, he was readily helping another person…no, scratch that,…he was helping two people; both of which he should hate. Madame Pomfrey was a goody-goody like the stupid Headmaster, and Ginny…she was a Weasley and a Gryffindor at that.

He shook is head. That wasn't what was bothering him; he'd long ago (as in several days ago) come to terms with his feelings for Ginny, and he couldn't deny that they were there, and powerful too.

But…he was…undressing her.

Suddenly, he felt a strange warmth rise to his cheeks, and had he been anyone other than a Malfoy, he would have thought he was blushing. Okay, so the thought of taking off another girl's clothes wasn't exactly a horrifying one.

But he actually liked this one. And she wasn't too pleased with him at the moment either. He didn't want to do anything she wouldn't want him to. But Madame Pomfrey needed his help…and he had to help Ginny…

Thankfully, Madame Pomfrey took the decision out of his hands.

"Are you going to stand here all day and do pointless and meaningless things or are you going to do something?" Madame Pomfrey mimicked, still cutting strips of gauze.

Draco rolled his eyes and went back to focusing on ridding Ginny of her clothes. _If you start feeling guilty, just say that you had to help Madame Pomfrey._ He thought to himself, moving back to the bedside. _After all, the girl's bleeding to death; it's not like she'd regret any help you give her, even if it involves removing her clothing._

He took a deep, steadying breath, glad that none of his Slytherin classmates were here to see this. Though they probably wouldn't believe it in the first place; Draco Malfoy helping someone and scared to take off a girl's shirt? Absolutely not.

Trying not to think to hard about what he was doing, Draco quickly divested Ginny of her sordid and bloodied outfit. He felt that same unfamiliar heat in his face as he glanced down at her once he was done.

She was wearing a plain pair of green cotton knickers and a matching sports bra, for which Draco was thankful for; had she been wearing anything that showed more skin, he would have blushed, Malfoy or not.

As he'd often noticed before, she was incredibly angular, and gazing down at her near-bare frame, even for just a second, he couldn't help but admire it. It wasn't soft or curvy, but it was so beautiful all the same, Her ribs, collarbone, and hips all jutted out from her creamy skin, and Draco felt the sudden urge to run his finger along the sharp edges, to feel his skin under hers.

Madame Pomfrey broke into his thoughts just as his hand began to stray towards her on its own. "If you don't mind, I think she could do with some clothes, as she seems to have only two wounds." She broke her gaze away from Draco's as she felt a grin tugging at the corner of her lips; his soft glance had not gone unnoticed by the older observant witch.

She glanced down at Ginny and frowned. "First I need to get all this blood off her." She removed her wand from her pocket again and waved it at her body. The blood was gone and Draco was glad he hadn't had to do it by hand; it would have been far too tempting.

He walked off, though reluctantly, to grab a hospital gown from the nurse's office. When he came back, Madame Pomfrey had cleaned Ginny's shoulder wound and was sticking pads of bandage to the still-wet laceration. She glanced up as Draco came back and nodded to the chair next to the bed, where Draco had been seated earlier.

Draco tossed the paper-thin outfit onto the chair and shifted uncomfortably. "Um…d'you need any help with that?" He asked tentatively. Madame Pomfrey looked up, and arched an eyebrow, but nodded, handing him a roll of tape.

"Once I've covered the cut, I need you to wrap this around her shoulder to keep it in place." She explained, strapping more gauze to the cut.

Draco waited impatiently while Madame Pomfrey finished cleaning up the angry red gash on Ginny's shoulder before tying the bandage tightly and firmly around her cuts, the bandage trailing from her shoulder to her elbow.

As he wound the long cloth around her arm, Madame Pomfrey administered some strange, orange-colored potion to the sleeping girl. Instantly her body relaxed and her muscles loosened.

The nurse sighed regretfully. "I've done just about all I can. I was hoping she'd wake up before now…" she trailed off and turned to Draco, biting her lip. "I don't know if you care or not…" she said carefully "…but just in case…I thought I might warn you, as I'll have to tell her brother and family…" she broke off again, looking horribly upset. "…if she doesn't come back in the next day or so, the chances of her coming back at all are…slim." She swallowed and turned away, feeling tears prickling at her eyes.

Draco shook his head. "She will wake up." He said, reassuring himself more than the distraught nurse. She nodded and stepped aside to gather her things as Draco resumed fussing with the gauzy straps.

He tied it securely around her arm, patting it gently. He looked down at her, this time looking at her face. Her eyes were closed peacefully in an innocent slumber, and her cheeks were slowly getting their regular pink tint.

He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. "What the hell were you doing?" He asked her gently, stroking her icy cheek. "You scared the shit out of me." He whispered.

She shivered in her sleep, and Draco noticed goose-bumps rising on her bare arms. He knelt down, grabbing the hospital gown from the chair with his spare hand. He quickly pulled the dress on over her head, smoothing out the folds and fabric a bit more than necessary.

He grabbed her hand in his. It was deathly cold to the touch. He rubbed it between his own, trying to force warmth into it. He sighed, dropping her hand to the bed and standing up. He pulled his wand from his back pocket. "Tepidrous." He whispered, touching the end of his wand to her arm.

Warm heat flooded through her body and Draco exhaled in relief as her cheeks glowed a healthy rosy pink. He sat down again, taking her hand once more in his, completely oblivious to the fact that Madame Pomfrey was still on the other side of the bed, watching the proceedings with growing amusement.

"Ginny, I'm s-so-sorry." He ground out. He'd never said those two words before (in that order), much less to a Weasley, and an unconscious one as well. He knew perfectly well that she couldn't hear him; that he was wasting his breath and dignity on nothing. But somehow, it just didn't matter anymore.

Draco sighed and sat back; he was tired. He didn't want to put up with this façade any longer. This whole public image of the cold, expressionless, untouchable son of a Death Eater was just not worth it. Especially if he was to win back Ginevra.

For her, he would publicly deface and defy his father; purposefully put the Malfoy name to shame. The repercussions of his actions would be nothing compared to the sheer bliss of having Ginny again.

Madame Pomfrey looked back and forth from Draco to Ginny, first with confusion, then understanding, then finally, approval. She edged away from the bedside; the young girl was in good hands. She walked quietly back to her office, frowning again. She'd done her best, but now it was up to the girl…she'd lost a lot of blood and there wasn't much that magic could do for her now. It all depended on how much strength she had left; and how much she wanted to live.

Madame Pomfrey shook her head and turned around, heading out of the hospital wing. Though he probably already knew, she needed to tell the Headmaster directly. He would want to get in touch with the girl's parents in case…she took a turn for the worst.

Draco sat for what seemed like years, just watching her sleep; watching her eyelashes flutter occasionally; watching the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest; watching her face, so serene and breathtaking in sleep. He reached up and tucked a strand of red hair out of her eyes. He absentmindedly twirled the strand around his finger.

"I'm sorry, Ginny." He whispered again, dropping her hair. He sat back, staring at his hands again, wanting so badly to hit something…mostly himself; he deserved it and wished Ginny had hit him instead of running away. If Ginny died, he would kill himself.

He wasn't just being melodramatic. He really would. Without her, he had nothing to live for. Before, he'd simply coasted along through life, just taking things how they came to him, not really caring that his life was shit. But knowing that he'd had something and lost her…it would kill him. So he'd just speed the process up a bit. He knew it was the coward's way out, but he didn't care if he was a coward, he just loved Ginny; he had to be with her, even if it was just in death.

Ginny didn't move; and she was still frighteningly pale. The rosy sparks in her cheeks would alternately fade and pop back up, as if she was fighting to stay alive.

He leaned in towards her. "Don't you dare give up on me, Ginevra Teresa Weasley. You can't. I know you're stronger than this; you've got to fight. You have so much to live for, don't give up." He stared down at her sadly. She had always been the epitome of life; vibrant and energetic, she had that indefinable spark of…something…in her smile and eyes that could give off more energy and magic than a hundred wizards. To see her so close to the door of death was torture, even more so for Draco, feeling guilty that he might have caused it.

It was true; if he hadn't scared her so badly, she never would have run off and gone into The Forbidden Forest. If he had just listened to her, she would be safe, probably in the arms of Harry Potter, but safe nonetheless.

He grimaced. He was such a stupid prat. Ginny had told him so on several occasions, but he really was now.

He stood abruptly, feeling the need to just escape, get away from everything. He smirked at himself and the irony of it all; if anything happened to Ginny, he would be getting away from everything…permanently.

So when Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter entered the hospital wing looking anxious and demanding, Draco groaned and sank back down into the chair. This was definitely not his day.

Some time later Ron sat back in the chair he'd pulled up to Ginny's bed. "So, you just found her?" He asked, looking and feeling ten years older. He glanced worriedly at Ginny, still so pale and weak.

Draco nodded, for what seemed to be the millionth time that day. "Madame Pomfrey thinks that a wolf attacked her." He shrugged, purposefully leaving out the part that he'd nearly beaten up the temperamental red-head's younger sister. He'd merely explained it with "we got into an argument", shooting Harry a glance.

Harry had bitten his lip. "Hey, Malfoy." He'd said, looking both regretful and guilty. "You know, I love Ginny, just not in that way. I want her to be happy" Ron had nodded in approval "even if it means being with you."

Draco now sat back, feeling somewhat relieved. Now all he needed was for Ginny to wake up and forgive him.

Suddenly the door to the hospital wing flew open with a bang. All three boys glanced up. Hermione whirled in, her eyes blazing, hair practically crackling with the static anger she was giving off, wand raised threateningly.

Ron and Harry jumped up and blocked her from Draco, who peeked around his two unlikely bodyguards. Hermione waved her wand at Rona and Harry.

"MOVE IT, YOU TWO! I'M GOING TO HEX HIS BLOODY FACE OFF! I'LL KILL HIM, I SWEAR!" She shouted, growling at Draco over Ron's shoulder.

Harry stepped up to Hermione, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, 'Mione. Malfoy didn't hurt Gi-"

Hermione pushed past him and tried to point her wand at Draco. Ron intervened, deftly plucking the wand from her hand. She paid no attention; she advanced rapidly on Draco and before he could move, drew her fist back and slammed it into his face.

Draco's chair tipped back with the force of her rage, dumping him onto the floor, sprawled out on top of the overturned piece of furniture. "Oooohhhh." He moaned, feeling his cheek bone tenderly.

"What the hell, you fucking Mudblood bitch?!" He fumed, disentangling himself from the chair and leaping up to face Hermione. He met her balled fist again, this time tripping over the fallen chair and landing firmly on his arse. Harry and Ron were stifling laughter as Draco flailed about, his legs sticking straight up in the air, and his arms clawing at the chair.

Draco stood up, and this time, he was ready for Hermione's punch. He dodged the flying hand and grabbed it as it went by, twisting it around behind her back. Hermione struggled to free herself, but Draco had her in a firm hold.

Harry and Ron stepped forward, unsure of what to do. Draco leaned down. "Stop struggling, you silly twit. I'm going to let you go if you promise not to try to knock my head off. If you can't do that, I'll keep you like this and we can talk this way." He hissed in her ear. Hermione quit wiggling and Draco let her arm go. She spun around and backed up, standing next to Ron and Harry and facing Draco expectantly.

"Well, go on Malfoy. I promise not to kill you…for now. But you had better fucking explain why I saw you flying Ginny's body up to the castle, drenched in her goddamn blood." She put her hands on her hips, her stance defensive and dangerous. Ron and Harry were staring at Hermione, and Ron's jaw had dropped.

Draco snorted, quickly disguising it as a hacking cough. "First of all, you should be thanking me instead of using me as a punching bag. Second of all, I don't owe you anything; if you want to know what happened, talk to your two little buddies. I'm off."

Without another word, he whirled around and stormed out of the wing.

Hermione turned to Harry and Ron. "Did I miss something?" She asked.

Ron shrugged and gestured to Harry. "You tell her, I have to write mum."

As Ron walked over to Ginny's bedside, Hermione cocked her head and gazed imploringly up at Harry. He sighed. "You're going to want to sit down for this."

Draco kicked the door to his room open. Two other Slytherin boys, both in their seventh year, were in the room and gave Draco a speculative look. "What's wrong with you, Malfoy? Eat too much at breakfast?" One of them, Gregory Goyle asked, stuffing his face with more sweets from home.

Draco held back his groan and managed not to roll his eyes, though his nostrils flared in disgust. "Out." He said through gritted teeth. Goyle and his companion, Vincent Crabbe, both exchanged a glance. Draco had stopped talking to them or even hanging around with them sometime after he had escaped from the Death Eater party with Blaise and Janet.

That had been when he found out that on that same night, Crabbe and Goyle had joined their fathers among the Death Eater population. After that, Draco refused to communicate with them. Not like it had been a great pleasure to do so before they were Death Eaters, but now he'd given himself a reason not to deal with them.

Goyle opened his big mouth to say something, but at the look Draco gave him, quickly stuffed more chocolate into it. First wise decision he ever made. Draco thought grimly. The two ape-like teens quickly evacuated the room, leaving Draco to his misery.

He collapsed on his bed, feeling another pang of guilt as he saw the wrappings from his presents from earlier in the morning. He'd forgotten it was still Christmas; so much had happened, it seemed like years had gone by in the few hours since he'd woken up.

He fidgeted around with the blankets and pillows, trying to will himself into sleep, but it was in vain; he could not get into a comfortable position, though he knew perfectly well that his pillows were the softest and his blankets the warmest. It had nothing to do with his sleeping materials…

Sighing in aggravation, he stood. Glancing around, he scowled and headed out of the dorm room. He'd go read in the library, and maybe that would get his mind off…her.

Draco exited the common room, and began to ascend an old set of stairs. He usually didn't come this way, but it was quiet and less traveled. He didn't want to see or talk to anyone unless that person happened to be Ginevra Teresa Weasley.

He rounded a corner, thinking hard. She just had to wake up. He couldn't imagine any other ending to their twisted love story. Because he did love her, and it was killing him that he hadn't told her earlier. But it didn't matter…she would wake up. Then he would tell her and she would (being the wonderful Gryffindor that she was) forgive him, and…

Draco stopped in mid-step. And then what?

They weren't made to be like other couples. They couldn't be; their separate lives wouldn't allow one whole life together with each other. They were on two sides of the spectrum, from two different worlds, they were two diverse people meant to live two uncommon lives. It was impossible for them to form one life together, even if Draco loved her enough to attempt to do so.

He shook his head and continued walking. If…no, when…she woke up, he would tell her that. Not that he loved her, that wouldn't matter, and he'd only end up hating himself for it. He'd tell her that they were just too different. And after the way he'd treated her this morning, she was likely, no…sure to agree.

Draco felt his chest tightening, much as it had when he'd first seen Ginny in the pool of red outside in the snow. She would grow up and become a great person, a beautiful woman, and marry the perfect man…Harry Potter. She would live in a nice house with wonderful friends, and they would have everything. Everything she'd ever wanted. A home, love, children…everything that Draco wanted to have with her.

She would be better off like that. She'd be happier. Yet no matter how many times he told himself that, he couldn't help but sit down on the deserted steps and cry, like he never had before.

He was losing her.

"Madame Pomfrey! Ooh, Madame Pomfrey! Come quick, I think she's regaining consciousness!"

Ginny groaned, not really sure of anything, including where she was, what day it was, and why her entire body ached all over, even in places she never knew she'd had. Hermione's voice had never sounded so shrill, though it might just have been the excruciating headache she'd somehow obtained. Her head felt as heavy as lead, and she couldn't budge an inch from where she was laying. Even her eyelids seemed weighted down as if by solid gold, as a light was shining from somewhere; through her closed lids and increasing the throbbing of her head.

Everything hurt so much, Ginny wasn't sure what had happened; she couldn't recall doing anything dangerous enough to cause this much pain. Concentrating on moving her body in some way or another (this state of half-awake was killing her and she wanted to find out what had happened) Ginny tensed all her muscles, glad to see they hadn't slipped into entropy.

However, all she succeeded in doing was letting out a soft moan that died far back in her throat. It was enough, though to make the people around her jump up and start making the most annoying and aggravating noises. She heard her name several times, and struggled to open her eyes.

One thing she did remember was her fight with Draco. She just had to see him again, and say how sorry she was; he'd obviously been troubled and instead of helping him, she'd goaded him on and made things worse. She had to tell him that she and Harry weren't an item. Draco had been the one person who surfaced in her fitful dreams.

Always, he was gazing at her with a warm, comforting, perhaps even loving gaze. Always, she reached out for him, to touch him, to kiss him, to lose herself in the strength and solidity of his embrace. But always, he was just out of her reach. Story of her life; everything she wanted was just beyond her attaining.

But Draco hurt so much. She knew it sounded childish and unrealistic, but she wanted him. She wanted him so badly it made her chest shrink, tightening around her heart whenever she saw him. What scared her was that she saw eternity in him. She could see herself spending the rest of time with the new Draco Malfoy. The one who treated her better than almost anyone she knew. The one who really and truly cared for her, or so she dared to hope. The one that wanted to be with her every second of every day. What scared her was that she felt the same for him, and was willing to sacrifice everything: her sound relationship with her family, her career, her dignity, perhaps even her life for the mysteriously attractive rat of a Death Eater that had made her first year hell, and the following ones uncomfortable.

It scared her so, to the point of causing her to wake with a start, flying up into a sitting position, glancing around desperately. When she couldn't find his familiar white-blonde head anywhere in the hospital wing (as she realized that was where she was), she sat back on her pillow, noticing the Golden Trio sitting near her bedside for the first time.

Ron leapt to him feet and clumsily encircled her in a big-brother hug. Ginny winced as she felt a slicing pain shoot up from the left side of her body. She looked down. Her entire left arm and shoulder was strapped up tightly with bandages.

Ron pulled away. "Thank the gods you woke up, Gins. I thought I'd have to owl mum and dad and have them come down. Everyone's been so worried about you." He shot a glance at Harry and Hermione.

Ginny followed his stare. Hermione's eyes were red, and her cheeks blotchy, as though she'd been crying. Harry hadn't been crying, but his face was pale and his hair more mussed up than usual, as it tended to do when he ran his hand through it continually.

Ginny opened her mouth and forced her vocal chords into action. "N-nice to see I-I'm cared for." She croaked wearily. Hermione shoved Ron out of the way and dove forward, sobbing something unintelligible. Ron shrugged at Ginny over Hermione's shoulder.

"O-oh-oh-Gin!" She wailed, tightening her arms around her neck. "When I saw Malfoy flying you up here, all-all covered in…b-b-blood…I thought…I thought…ohhhhhhhhh!" She wept.

Ginny wrapped her arms around the older girl's waist, giving her a comforting squeeze. Hermione pulled back.

"So, what happened, exactly?" Ginny asked, playing with her bed covers. "I mean, I remember certain things, but…" Scenes passed through her mind, flitting in and out of comprehension, so that she barely saw them. Draco, the fight, the escape, the snow, the wolf…the blood.

"So much blood." She whispered. She didn't need them to tell her anymore; she knew everything, though she was mainly guessing on a few parts.

Hermione broke down at that, flinging her arms around Ginny's neck again, sobbing uncontrollably. Ginny could make out 'poor thing', 'fucking scared', 'dead', 'bloody bastard', and 'damned beast'. Surprisingly, Hermione had quite a mouth on her. A few minutes later, Hermione disentangled herself from Ginny, looking acutely embarrassed. "Sorry, Gin. I know you're tired and all, it's just…" Her lower lip began trembling again, and Ron slid a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

Harry stepped forward and placed his hand over Ginny's. It was an affectionate gesture, but one that was completely lost on Ginny. Right now, she probably wouldn't have noticed if Harry got down on his knees and proposed.

Right now she had more important things on her mind.

Right now, she needed to find Draco. Something Hermione had said had being nagging at the back of Ginny's somewhat muddled mind, and now it resurfaced in its entirety.

"If Draco brought me up here, where is he?" She asked, unconsciously playing with the blankets on the bed.

Ron cocked his head and Harry withdrew his hand from hers, both of them sharing a glance. Ron stepped forward, kneeling by her side. "Ginny, do you like Malfoy? I mean, seriously. Is it just an infatuation that you can get over, or…" He trailed off, not really sure how else someone could be attracted to a Malfoy.

Ginny eyes glazed over and she stared at something over Ron's shoulder. "Hmmm, or…what indeed…" she mused to herself. She turned back to Ron, snapping back into the here and now. ""You know Ron, I think I love him."


	12. In a World Without Love

**Author's Note: **So, Ginny's alright (or is she), Ron, Harry and Hermione are there for comfort (or are they), and Draco's gone off to steam (or has he). Enough with the Parenthesis Contradictions. Chapter 12. Draco is so idiotic. He over-reacts and jumps to conclusions. Dumb-ass boys...but yay, just read and enjoy, because I love hearing what you think!

**Disclaimer:** You know what? Listen to your effing conscience; don't take anything (not like you'd want to). If you have any qualms, check out the last million chapters, where I told you the same thing in nicer, prettier, formatted words. Grrrrr. Back to trying to get my bitching computer to cooperate.

Chapter 12: In a World Without Love…

Ginny was still smiling to herself. It felt so good to say.

"…_I think I love him."_

She really did. At least, she felt so strongly for him, more so than anyone else, save perhaps her family, but she loved them in a very different way. Somehow, though she'd only really known him for a couple of months, she felt closer to Draco than anyone else in her life. As if it were meant to be. And if not, she would just deal with things as they came. But she had to give him a chance. Because even though it was childish and naïve, she really had lost her heart to him. She loved him.

Now if only she could find him and say it to his face…

Ron sat back, biting his lip. Behind him, Harry scoffed, looking unimpressed an incredibly doubtful.

"Yeah right." He murmured under his breath, rolling his eyes indirectly at Ginny. To his (and Ginny's and Hermione's) surprise, Ron stood and whirled around, eye flashing.

"No one asked you, Harry! And besides, who my sister loves or even likes is no longer your concern. You never showed any interest in her love life before, so you can damned well stay out of it before." He snorted angrily.

Harry ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Merlin, Ron…Ginny…I'm sorry, I didn't mean…it's just…it's Malfoy!" He spat the name out. Ron balled up his fists, ready to get really pissed. He didn't like the bloke any more than Harry did, possibly even less. But if Ginny cared even a whit for him, he would let it pass.

"Why you-" Ron began, but stopped, looking down at the five cold fingers wrapped gently around his arm. He looked up at Ginny, who was sitting calmly and peacefully, giving him a look of pure appreciation and sibling love.

"'S okay, Ron. Really. I think I can take things from here." She squeezed his arm tenderly. "Thanks for being a big brother, but I'll do this my way." Ron shrugged and sat down on the edge of her bed, his warm hand sliding into her frigid one.

Ginny blew out a breath of air, a stray strand of red hair fluttering in front of her eyes. "I don't blame you Harry. At first, I couldn't stop thinking that same thing…'he's a Malfoy!'. He disgusted me. I hated him and everything about him." She cocked her head, and smiled to herself. "And then I got to know him, and I realized that his name disgusted me. I hated who he should be. And it was everything he was destined to become made me sick. But him, as a person, I realized I liked him. And I've come to love him. Forget Malfoy. I fell in love with Draco. He's not a Malfoy. He refused the Dark Mark. He ran away from his parents. He's been living with Blaise's cousin for the past couple of years. He's a different person, though what his father ingrained in him is still there. But I can help him. I can help him get rid of all that Malfoy nonsense. Because I do love him. Although he's put me through so much, I love him lore than ever." She finished, wincing internally at the thought of earlier that morning; looking out the window, she noted that it was night. How fast Christmas had gone by, and she hadn't even gotten to enjoy it.

Oh well…if she could just see Draco, it would be fine. But the stupid dolt wasn't there…

Sighing resignedly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Immediately there were three sets of hands pushing her back onto the mattress. Ginny popped back up, staring at her three older friends angrily.

"What the hell?" She growled, struggling to squirm off the bed against Ron's arms. And damnit, why did he have to have been (for most of his life, anyway) a Beater, of all things? Of course, now he was Keeper, but he still had those Beater muscles, damn him. Ginny flopped back on her pillows after several more minutes of fruitless struggling.

She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring up at Ron, and Harry and Hermione, though they had somewhat faded back in the picture.

"Well, what the hell is it?" She asked through clenched teeth.

Ron shook his head. He loved his little sister, though sometimes she could be a stubborn pain in the arse. Damn Weasley traits…

He sat down on the edge of her bed again. "Gins, you're many things; wonderful, brilliant, beautiful, funny, talented…but you're not invincible. You get up now and you'll be back down on the floor within a few minutes. You've lost a lot of blood," he nodded at her extensive bandaging "and Madame P. says no movement or extraneous exertion of any kind. That includes gallivanting around school looking for that ars-uh…Malfoy." He recovered quickly.

"Nice save." Ginny muttered distractedly. Damn Ron and his mind-reading abilities! She didn't care if she did take a nosedive down the stairs; she had to at least try to find Draco. There were still things they needed to talk about…things that needed to be explained.

Ginny looked up at Ron, who was looking frighteningly like Molly Weasley at that moment. "Now, you're staying in this bed for the rest of today, and tomorrow, if you're feeling even the slightest under the weather." He said, standing and putting his hands on his hips.

Ginny grinned wryly as Hermione covered a peeking smile. "Yes mother." She grumbled, burrowing under her covers jadedly.

And then, the tiniest spark of an idea flew into her head. She groaned slightly, hoping it didn't sound too forced, and put a hand to her forehead. "Though it's a pain to say, I think you're right, Ron. My head hurts just from talking to you." She pulled herself out of her little drama to shoot him a wicked grin. "Though that may not be from blood loss." She said pointedly, before quickly turning onto her back and closing her eyes, making sure to exhale loudly. "G'night." She muttered drowsily.

She could hear shuffling and Ron muttering something behind her, but she kept her eyes closed. Seconds later the door to the hospital closed and Ginny exhaled loudly. Finally. She was alone.

She waited a few more seconds, just to be sure, and then flung back the covers, leaping from her bed. Her head spun slightly, b she managed to quell the feeling. The floor was cold beneath her bare feet, but she barely noticed it as she rushed over to where her clothes (minus about a liter of blood) were folded neatly.

Grabbing the clothing, she raced to the bathroom and shut the door firmly. Two minutes later, she was dressed, and tossed her hospital gown onto her mussed-up bed.

Time to go find Draco.

Draco glanced furtively around the deserted library.

Perfect. He thought to himself. Everyone was off enjoying a late Christmas dinner. Even Madame Pince had abandoned her normal perch and was nowhere to be found. Ideal for Draco, as he'd rather kill himself before letting anyone (excluding a certain redhead) see him with teary red eyes. It was disgraceful.

Draco shuffled along to the back of the vast emptiness of the library, cautious in case any irritating couples had snuck back there to cuddle and snog. Revolting. Unless it happened to be him and Ginny…

Draco gave one last glance around before flopping down into the nearest chair. There was no other description for how he felt just then. He was simply exhausted. Ginny had been right; crying did take a lot out of you. Of course, it was more than just the leakage of salt water from his eyes that was bothering him. The whole having-to-leave-Ginny-because-he-would-hurt-her-and-she-was-better-off-with-someone-like-Potter-anyway thing was a bit depressing as well.

He was just so tired. He felt like lying down and going to sleep forever. His drooping eyelids flew open. Wait…why couldn't he? Wasn't that the same as death? What did he have to live for anyway? His caring mother? His loving father? His adoring friends?

He scoffed at the sarcasm in his head. There was always Ginny, but they couldn't be…together anyway, so what did he truly have to live for? He had no great loves in his life (save for said redhead); he was good at Quidditch, but it wasn't his passion. He liked school and was good at it, but it was just something to pass the time until…until what? He grew up and became his own man? No matter how old he got, Draco would never be his own man, not until Lucius was dead and gone. Even if he did…marry…and get his own life, the looming figure of his father, cold and unforgiving, would always be there. He's always just imagined that everything would be different once he was trained and out of Hogwarts, but it wouldn't be. It would be the same, except for the fact that he had tasted freedom, if only briefly. He had experienced so much with Ginny, and she had shown him so much. Love, pain, emotions he'd never even dreamt or heard of. Through everything though, she was amazing. Inspirational. Incredible. His own angel. And he had held that angel, and loved her. She would be the only girl he ever fell for, even if she stopped caring for him. He could almost imagine a life to live for if he could be with her…but that wasn't an option anymore. And if that was the case…it was best to get out now. While she still loved him; before he either had to hurt her, or be hurt by her. If he could go out now, he would be fine. With the knowledge that he had loved, and was loved, without the pain of having to live through his life alone brooding on what could have been if things were different.

After all, he really had no reason to stay alive. Life had nothing left to offer him. It had given him one sliver of perfection and love, with which he could have lived contentedly for the rest of his years. And then it had pulled that sweet angel away, and he was left colder and more desperate than ever, realizing and knowing what he could have had, it weren't for who he was.

Anger and hatred, two emotions he felt often, were bubbling up in him in a new form; one he'd never experienced before. Yes, they were the same feelings he'd felt before, but more primitive and barbaric. He felt the straining need to hit, to strike, to lash out at anything. The need to kill. The need to destroy. And he had the perfect guinea pig…

Himself.

"Well, that was, I must say, the best Christmas ever." Blaise said contentedly, flopping down on the now-folded couch-bed in Janet's living room. Heather sighed and rolled her eyes, though she couldn't stop grinning.

It seemed to be contagious, because Janet, Blaise, and Skye were all wearing the same ridiculous smile. Skye's grin grew wider as she plopped down in a comfortable silk chair, which was rather unfortunate for Janet, who happened to have been occupying the chair.

"Skye!" She groaned, half-heartedly trying to shove Skye off her lap. The red-haired witch simply laughed and took a sip of her white wine. Blaise and Heather also broke into laughter, and Janet simply sighed, wrapping her arms around Skye's waist.

Blaise and Heather glanced away considerately, snuggling down next to each other. After a morning spent opening presents, eating breakfast, and talking, they were more or less exhausted come nightfall. They were now sitting in different (yet similarly comfortable) seats around a roaring fire, all sipping wine (blessed be France's underage drinking laws).

Heather moaned softly and appreciatively as she leaned back against Blaise's chest, burrowing into the warmth of his large green sweater. Copying Janet's pose, he encircled Heather's waist with his arm, pulling her closer to him and burying his face in her hair.

She sighed and her eyes opened, flicking contentedly around the room. "I have to agree; of all fifteen of my Christmas's, this has to be my favorite." She glanced over at Janet, who was nuzzling the soft flesh of Skye's neck. "Thank you, for everything." She said, in general to Janet, Skye and Blaise.

Janet turned away from Skye, who pouted slightly, but gave Heather an animated wink all the same. "Actually, it was great having you. It saved us having to listen to Blaise whine and mope about how much he misses you." She rolled her eyes comically at her younger cousin, ignoring the scowl he sent her.

"But, really, you're the nicest of Blaise's girlfriends I've ever met." She smiled up at Heather before losing herself to Skye. Heather tensed as Janet's words struck home and Blaise winced. Oops…

Heather stood abruptly, trying to remain expressionless, and, saying her goodnights, stalked off to her bedroom, steaming. She shut the door as gently as possible, though she felt like ranting and raving and slamming, and would have, had it been her own house. As it was, she sunk down on her bed, burying her face in the sheets and sighed.

She knew she was blowing things out of proportion, but though she'd often mentioned that Blaise was her first, he'd never mentioned any girlfriends. At least, none he'd been really serious about. How many other girls had he brought out to his cousin's, making them feel special and wanted? How many other girls had he fooled with his 'I'm-madly-in-love-with-you' lines? She felt like a first-class moron.

She was so busy with her thoughts and trying to hold back hurt tears that she didn't hear the door opening and shutting softly.

But she did feel the weight of someone sinking onto the bed. Before she could sit up, she felt someone settle their chest on her back, lightly caressing her upper arms with apologetic fingers, sending cool shivers down her spine.

"Don't be mad." Blaise whispered into her ear, his head next to hers. He caught her wrists and played with them gently, his weight still on hers.

Heather felt her face sticking to the damp sheets and realized that she had been crying. She sniffled softly in the blankets and turned her head so she could just see his face. He looked anxious and sorry, which surprised her. She'd expected something more like the usual Slytherin reserve that was so coolly delivered. She hadn't expected this...tender apologetic softness.

She knew then, that she had been imagining things. The look he was giving her said that no matter how many other girls he'd been with, she was the only one he cared for now.

He reached up and brushed away her mussed up hair, looking into her eyes. He pressed his wide lips to her forehead, and despite herself, she felt her anger ebbing away as she leaned into his kiss.

She had already known that she was overreacting, but she knew, or thought she knew, that their relationship was too…perfect. That sooner or later, something would happen to shatter the happiness and pleasure of the past couple of months. But she now knew that she didn't have to invent a problem for them. If there was one, they could deal with it, but there was no reason to screw up a perfectly good relationship just for the hell of it.

She turned suddenly, her body twisting around under his so she was staring up at him.

Blaise bit his lip as he felt his body heating up. Yeah, he respected that she wanted to keep sex from their affiliation, but it didn't mean she couldn't send him crazy; he couldn't help what his body did. After all, he was a hormonal seventeen-year-old, as Heather had told him countless times, usually rolling her eyes at his antics.

Heather looked up at him shyly and it was hesitant arms that circled his waist, bringing him closer to her. He sank down on top of her, body, head, and…other things pounding with the urgent need to do something, anything. It was hard enough to concentrate with this gorgeous little creature under him in her night clothes. For possibly the first time in his life, he had no clue what to do. Oh, there were many things that he wanted to do right now, but all of them would earn him a fist to the gut and a knee to the groin, neither of which he wanted to experience now.

Heather, who had no idea what she was doing to Blaise, merely pulled him closer, their legs entwining. She felt so foolish. She had blown things way out of proportion. Thank the gods Blaise was more understanding than most boys. She hugged him tighter to her, unsure of why he suddenly tensed.

Blaise was having his own internal battle. Gods, he wanted her so badly. He didn't care if they couldn't sleep together (he'd never really cared for the term 'fuck' in relation to sex), he just wanted to be as close to her as possible. But would he be able to control himself if she didn't push him away?

Heather's lips seeking his took the decision away from him. She kissed him hard. Not gently or softly, but deep and passionately, pouring everything into it, including the anger and sadness she'd felt earlier. While her pains were disintegrating, Blaise was on the verge of insanity. If he could just kiss her, touch her, hold her, he would be fine.

So he did. He kissed her back equally, if not more roughly and with more fervor than any of their other kisses. Heather whimpered into his mouth as he nipped at her lower lip. Everything was so wrong, but it felt so good. She hadn't realized that her hands had strayed to his shirt and were unconsciously undoing the buttons.

Blaise sucked in his breath, breaking his lips from hers as he grasped her wandering hands and pulled them from his shirt. He looked down at her, and nearly gasped out the breath he'd inhaled just as sharply.

Her cheeks were flooded with a soft pink tint, and her eyes were wild and huge, glazed over with something indescribable, something so incredibly sexy. Her hair was in a seriously disheveled state.

Heather watched as his gaze raked over her, his own eyes going shades darker, looking impossibly black. She was glad she was lying down, or she would have fallen into the endless abyss of those glittering black eyes.

"Oh gods…" he said, in a strange, rough and strangled voice, his eyes skating over her body to lock with hers.

And then he was all over her, kissing and touching like he'd never done before. Heat was coursing through both of them, practically radiating from one to the other. Heather was making soft noises in the back of her throat. Blaise had no idea what she was doing to him, but he didn't want it to stop.

Although he had actually…slept around with a few girls at Hogwarts, he had never, ever, felt this good, and they were still completely clothed. Though that wasn't really by his choice…

Though neither knew how it came to be, they were soon lying, breathing heavily; both of their over-shirts discarded carelessly on the floor where they'd been tossed. Blaise, though in only his baggy night pants, wasn't suffering in the least from the cold. Heather, in only a light sports shirt, was equally warm, especially her cheeks, which had flushed with heat every time he touched her.

Blaise's mouth was still fused to hers when his hand strayed to the drawstrings of her baggy pants. He needed her so badly, and the fact that he was laying on top of her half-clad was not helping.

Heather felt the insistent tug on the waistband of her pants, bringing them down to settle just at her hips. She pulled her hand from where it had been entangled in his hair to stop him from pulling them any lower.

Blaise felt her body tense and her lips stopped moving. Then her hand was on his, gentle, yet firm. He pulled back and looked down at her face. Her eyes were still half-lidded, dark and soft at the same time. Her lips were swollen and her cheeks flushed.

He then looked down to where his hand had come up, almost on its own accord, to the strings. He played absent-mindedly with them, toying them around his finger. Heather pulled his face to look at her. Her eyes were still welcoming, but pleading, and the tiniest bit scared.

Blaise was scared too. For a moment there, he'd forgotten everything; her wishes, his resolve, and he hadn't thought it possible to stop. But just looking at her eyes now, he did stop. He couldn't bear to cause those huge eyes to look so frightened.

Instead, he pulled his hand away from the waistband of her pants and moved it up her torso and neck to cup her face, pulling her into another spiraling world of kisses and soft caresses. It was a world that engulfed them both, and neither cared, as long as they were in it together.

Some time later, Blaise finally broke his lips from hers. Breath coming unevenly and raggedly, he lowered his head so it was resting on her collar bone. Trailing minute kisses along the protruding bone, he sighed to himself. Though they hadn't even gotten to removing lower body clothing, he felt more satisfied than he ever had in his life.

Heather echoed his sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, where it lay comfortably.

It was in that position that they felt asleep, both supremely comfortable with only each other as a blanket.

Back in the living room, Skye was still sitting on Janet's lap. Or rather, she was lying across her lap, one arm wrapped around Janet's neck, playing idly with her shirt strap as she raised the other to sip from her wine glass.

She laughed throatily and set down her glass. "Ten to one says that one of them doesn't use their own bed tonight." She giggled, moving her hand along Janet's shoulder-line to play with the hair that was falling about her shoulders.

Janet turned to look at the violently red-haired woman nestled against her chest. "What d'you mean?" she asked, them gasped softly as her eyes grew round with comprehension.

"You don't mean…? Urgh, not in my house!"

She struggled to get up, back Skye pushed her back into the chair gently. "Relax. I don't know much about your cousin, but I do know two things. One, Heather can handle herself. She's a sensible girl, and if Blaise does anything inappropriate, she'll let him know quite efficiently. And two, he's head over heels for her. That could be a liability, but I think he can regulate himself."

She smiled seductively, eyelashes fluttering dramatically. "I, on the other hand…" she waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Janet scoffed, though she couldn't hold back a smile.

"Merry Christmas, Skye." She whispered, before covering her mouth with hers.

Skye sighed appreciatively into their kiss, hands coming up to cup Janet's face and pull her closer to her. She parted her lips and smiled.

Merry Christmas indeed.


	13. Love What is it Good For? Absolutely Not...

**Author's Note: ** WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! Ha, that was fun. Ok, beware: in this chapter, I was staying up late watching all sorts of bad movies, so aside from the side-affects of that (namely horrifying writing), beware, for this chapter contains ATTEMPTED RAPE and SUICIDE, or at least they're mentioned. Very evil chapter. Coincidentally, my favorite. Hardihardihar. Mmmmm...bye.

**Disclaimer: **See last twelve chapters, take your pick of Disclaimers.

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 13: Love: What Is It Good For? Absolutely Nothing.**

Draco was still sitting at his table, tucked away in a corner of the library when two girls came in. He glanced up, not really interested, and recognized them as two Hufflepuff girls from his dance class. The only reason he'd noticed them in the first place was because Ginny occasionally talked to them. Otherwise, Draco wouldn't have been able to tell what house they were from.

He turned away from the girls (who looked to be about in their sixth year) and stared morosely out the window. It was snowing outside.

He loved snow; had since he was a child. He loved the cold and the wet and how much fun you could have playing in it. That was before, when he was an innocent. A young boy without the fears and evils of the world imprinted in his mind. The similarity between that carefree, almost happy at times, child, and the hardened bastard he had grown up to be was practically nonexistent.

He sighed wearily as the two girls sat down at the table in front of him, and began talking. Theirs were that annoying, nasal, high-pitched whine that could drive men crazy as effectively as mother-in-laws.

Bits of their conversation drifted across the short distance between them. Try though he might to just think of Ginny's condition, he could still pick up snatches and phrases.

Somewhere lost in his thoughts of Ginny and whether or not she would live through the night, he heard the words he'd been dreading to hear sobbed from the occupied table ahead of him.

"I just can't believe she'd gone, you know." One girl sniffled, while the other girl rubbed her back sympathetically, tears forming in her own eyes. "It's just, you never that something like this would happen, especially after such a short time." She banged her fist down on the table. Draco was intrigued. _Ginny._ He thought, subconsciously.

"She can't be gone, she just can't! She promised me she'd stay and help me out with things. She was always so helpful in dance class, and she was a great person, and a really good friend. I'm going to miss her so much. I-I just can't believe she's …she's…g-gone!" She whimpered, dabbing at her freely flowing nose .

As the two girls found solace in each other, hiccupping and sniffling, Draco felt suddenly cold, and inexplicably alone.

Ginny. They had to be talking about Ginny. His Ginny. The girl he had fallen so hopelessly in love with.

Ginny was dead. His Ginny was gone, forever. No more soft glances, no more hard kisses, no more holding her in his arms, or smoothing her hair from her face. She couldn't be, but she was. He didn't want to admit it; he wanted to tear himself from the library and rush to the hospital wing to check, but he was afraid of the empty bed he would find there. Or worse, the empty body.

And unexpectedly, everything was gone. He was no longer sure of where he was, the two girls seemed to have disappeared from his sight, though he could almost make out their voices; but they were thick and slurred, as if coming to him from some far off world that he used to be a part of.

There was nothing, and there was everything. He felt numb, but at the same time, he felt so much. He was euphoric, he was in agony. He wanted to laugh hysterically, he wanted to scream long and hard with every fiber of his being for what he had lost. Shadows of a time seemingly long ago flashed before him, and it was almost like seeing her again.

_She was in a deserted dance class, stealthily advancing on him with a delicious smile in her lips, kissing him on her own…she was in the Great Hall, laughing and joking with friends and her brother as she ate, completely unaware that she had his attention, that she had had his attention ever since she had kissed him…she was walking to one of her classes, smiling to herself, again, unaware of Draco… she was sitting at the very table he was now, reading a book as she waited for him, oblivious to the fact that he was always late because he stood watching her for so long…she was sitting out on a rock in the snow while some idiot tried to take her away from him… she was lying in the snow, beneath him, smiling up at him with all the love in the world, as if she wasn't seeing the man he'd always thought he'd become, but some other person, someone he knew he couldn't be…_

Draco knew he could never be that person. That non-existent person that Ginny believed him to be. Gods knew he wanted to be, hell he'd do anything to just be with her. But he just couldn't not be who he was brought up to be. He wasn't raised to be sweet, or kind, or even emotional. Hell, he was never supposed to find love; as a teen, he'd realized that and drowned himself in meaningless girls, hoping to abate that feeling that threatened to overtake him.

The feeling heavy with the knowledge that he would never love.

But he had loved. With more passion than even he thought he was capable of. He'd surprised himself with just the willingness to love, not to mention the person who was the target for his feelings.

_Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all._

What bullshit.

Had he never loved Ginny, his life would have gone on as it did; no point, no plan, no goal, just a mindless wandering through the only life he could live. But the thing was, he _had_ loved Ginny. And so badly. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was; to wipe away the tears he had pulled from her eyes; to kiss away the bruises his own damned fingers had left on the skin he loved; to brush away that look she had transfixed him with; that scared, frightened look, as if she had finally found out who he really was, and not the prince in shining armor she made him out to be.

But none of that really mattered anymore, Draco thought, as the world seemed to go one without him, leaving him alone, with all the words Ginny had ever whispered to him, just to him, buzzing in his ears incessantly. She was gone, but everything would go on as normal. The earth would still turn, the stars would still rise, and the sun would sink every night to give way to darkness.

But what good was the earth unless she was one it? What good were the stars unless she was staring up at them, with eyes that sparkled and gleamed so radiantly that they put the most dazzling constellations to shame? And what good was the sun, unless she was sitting under it, the only light in the darkness that now engulfed him mercilessly? Him, who had been darker and blacker than the most starless night. As far as he was concerned, nature didn't hold a flame to Ginny Weasley. She was his earth, his stars, his sun, his beautiful, loving angel. She would always be there, but that wasn't enough. He had to have her.

Or he would have nothing at all.

He squared his shoulders, the action bringing him back down to earth. The cold, unwelcoming earth that now lacked the one thing that made it so perfect. Everything was different now; nothing shone as brightly, everything looked dark, foreboding, and twisted. He hated it so much. Without her there, the world was disgusting and filthy.

He wanted to get away from it all; the horrible, agonizing pain that throbbed from where his heart used to be. But it was gone; he had no heart anymore, there was nothing without her, just numbing and overwhelming pain. He wanted to get away from it. Death didn't frighten him anymore; if this was life without Ginny, screw it, he'd take death. _Nothing,_ and absolutely nothing, could hurt more than this.

He wanted to get away from it, and he would.

Blaise shivered and opened his eyes. He closed them again as there was nothing to see in the total darkness of his room. Sleep had been so good, so comfortable, but he was beginning to get cold, especially his arms. He wondered briefly where his covers were before opening his eyes groggily.

He brought his head up and glanced around, his eyes growing accustomed to the darkness. And then he realized that he wasn't in his room. He was in Heather's. The events of earlier that night came back to him and he gazed around the room, searching for Heather, which was why he was so cold.

He turned his head slightly and glanced over next to him and nearly fell off the bed in shock. Heather was lying on her side next to him, wide awake and gazing at him with such a penetrating unwavering gaze that it gave him pleasant chills down his back.

She saw that he was awake and smiled. Blaise repressed a groan as she moved her hand up and stroked his cheek, her fingers running over what stubble he had. "Well, well- cool, smooth Blaise Zabini has a little beard." She rumbled softly.

Blaise moaned softly, so softly, that it died in the back of his throat. The simple little things she did could send him over the edge of sanity into endless and delirious oblivion. He grasped her hand suddenly. She looked up at him, startled.

He simply gave her a smoldering look and pulled her hand to his lips. Heather made that same, half-gasp, half-moan and snuggled in closer to him, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her other arm around his waist.

"Gods, Heather." Blaise said huskily, his voice pitches deeper than normal, sending hot shivers down Heather's back. "One of these days you're going to kill me like this." He shuddered at the sensation the touch of her hand on his lower back caused.

Heather cocked her head, her stud earring scratching against the green covers on the bed. What was wrong? She was barely touching him and he was acting like they were…well, never mind what it looked like, he was acting strangely.

She ran her fingers down Blaise's bare back unthinkingly. He sucked in his breath and grasped her shoulders. "Might I ask- are you trying to kill me?" He asked in a slightly higher-than-normal voice.

Heather arched an eyebrow, though her eyes showed how really confused she was. "What do you mean? I'm not doing anything!"

Blaise grinned and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. "I know. That's what drives me insane: you're hardly even touching me, and yet it still drives me mad, because I'm not allowed to do anything but touch." He grinned appreciatively as Heather flushed, trying to cover her face with her hands, but he wouldn't let her.

"Not a chance, Rambinski." He said, using the playful tone he always did when he used her last name. He took her hands again, rubbing small, gentle circles into their backs. "I won't let you cover up that face of yours." He stared into her eyes, taking the opportunity to just lose himself as she wasn't looking at him, but rather down at where their hands were clasped.

_Gods, I could stay like this forever._ He thought to himself, gazing at the girl lying next to him, unaware of how much control she had over him, of how crazy she made him, of how much he cared for her. Hell, the whole no-sex thing would probably kill him, but if he could just wait long enough for her to be 'ready', it would be worth it. It would be hard, that much he knew.

It wasn't that he wasn't some sex-crazed hormonal man-whore, though Draco had told him differently several times over the course of their friendship; but he had been having…'sexual relationships' since his fifth year; his parents had encouraged him to get close to girls from other pure-blooded wizarding families in an attempt to strengthen the bonds of money and blood, perhaps even as a prelude to marriage.

After the break from his family, Blaise had sought out the willing girls to try and find some sort of release from everything. He didn't want to have to think about anything that was going on in his life; he'd thought that if he could just limit thinking to school, Quidditch, and girls, he would be fine.

How wrong he had been.

Talking with Draco had helped. For a brutalizing self-centered bastard of a ferret, he was alright. It gave him a chance to confront his problems with someone who knew what he was experiencing instead of running away from them.

And then there was Heather. His saving grace.

He looked at her and realized that she was waiting for something. He'd forgotten that he'd been saying something…what was it?

He smiled to himself and looked down at her. "As I was saying, there is no chance in hell that I am going to let you cover up that gorgeous face of yours, my darl-"

Heather cut him off by clamping her small hand over his mouth. She sat up and was giving him a hard glance, though she didn't look too upset. "It is so imperative to my image of you as a harsh Slytherin that you don't finish that sentence." She said warningly. "I am not your darling, I am not your honey, I am not your angel. I'm no sweetheart, no baby, no love-cakes or any other frankly disgusting cuddly goochi-goochi term of endearment you can think of." She smirked then, a wickedly sexy grin. "I am not your lovey-dovey, your kitten, your sweetie…but I am yours." She said softly.

Blaise couldn't stand the soft, tender look she was giving him. It was so soft and sweet. He felt himself being pulled closer and closer by that look until he was sitting up as well, and his face was inches from hers. He could feel her breath coming in short, half-pants, warm against his face.

Her eyes shut in anticipation, dark thick eyelashes fluttering down to brush her cheeks. That was all Blaise could take. He pressed his lips to hers for what felt like it could have been the hundredth or first time. Everything felt so good when he did it with Heather.

Heather was on the verge of pulling her hair out with near-insanity. He was doing something to her, and she didn't like it. Well, that wasn't entirely true. What he was doing was likely to drive her mad. It was that she liked what he was doing too much that she didn't like it. Or something like that; it was very complicated, and the fact that he was doing…whatever he was doing was making it difficult to sort out what he was doing, and…thinking about it was just not possible right now.

Heather just decided against thinking and let Blaise do whatever it was he was doing. She pressed her lips to his, heart catching at how insanely soft it was, to be doing so much to her.

Blaise wrapped both arms around her waist. Heather's smile turned into a quick, soft gasp. His hands were running relentlessly down her spine, making her shudder. She wanted to make him stop, but it felt so good.

"Lord, Blaise." She whispered breathily, trying to regain her previously closed-minded intents. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, trying to grasp onto something real and solid. His hands were around her back, holding her in a soft embrace.

"Mmmmm." Heather mumbled, her lips skating over every inch of skin she could touch. They trailed feather-soft kisses along his jaw, down his neck, and over his collarbone. Blaise shuddered, though he really wasn't feeling the cold anymore.

Blaise shuddered, sucking in a huge breath and pulling Heather's face away from him to look up at his eyes. She looked nothing but gorgeous right then, her eyes half-lidded and dark with what would have been desire on anyone else, though the somewhat frightened uncertainty in them marred the effect. Her lips were soft and swollen, and she pulled a hand up to touch them, almost scared.

Blaise bit his lip, trying to think about something other than how beautiful she was at that moment. She was so …sweet, when she kissed him it was so tender; driving him crazy. Had it been any other girl, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. Had it been any other girl, he would have already been tugging at her clothes. Had it been any other girl, he wouldn't be hesitating and pulling away. But, she wasn't any other girl, and from the looks of things, she'd had a few sips too many of wine. She was after all, such a tiny little thing, with no idea what she was doing to him just sitting there, let alone kissing him.

Blaise finally broke away and took both of her hands in his, looking down at her intently. "Gods, Heather, you just can't do this to me." He said in a ragged voice. She stared up at him questioningly, and he saw her eyes go to his lips, and again, her eyes went dark before closing and she leaned in again. He put a hand between their lips though, and she kissed that. Her eyes opened and she pulled back, finally coming to her senses.

"I'm so sorry, Blaise. I wasn't thinking, I just…once I started kissing you, I couldn't stop, and…oh, gods," she rubbed the bridge of her nose with her hand "I must seem like such a tease." She said softly, almost apologetically, trying to put her head in her hands.

Blaise caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, though. He forced her gaze to meet his. Her cheeks were flushing with humiliation. Blaise laughed.

"Lord, Blaise, I'm so sorry. I just…start touching you and it's like…I can't control what I'm doing…I'm sorry." She flushed again. Blaise chuckled and pressed his lips softly to her forehead. She leaned into his kiss.

"I know the feeling. But I don't want you to do something you might regret later. Of course, I want you, and it's nice to know that you like touching me. But," he kissed her brow again "I love you, and we have all the time in the world. If you want, that is. When the time's right, and you're older, if you're sure about it, I have no problem with…well, you know." He nearly blushed, but retained what little Zabini restraint he had. "But I can wait, and I want it to be when you want."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe we shouldn't sleep together." Heather cocked her head. "Not…like that…like in the same bed!" Blaise amended hastily waving his hands back and forth in front of her. "I just think it's far too tempting." He raked his gaze over her body as if to prove his point.

Heather flushed, but felt really quite pleased to know that he cared for her, and wanted her to be happy.

Blaise was staring at her, and it occurred to her that he might be waiting for her response. Instead of answering, she simply dove under the covers, her head coming up to peek out from behind him. ""Well, I just think it's far too comfortable." Heather reasoned, snuggling farther into the sheets, closing her eyes as she prepared for sleep.

Blaise smiled at her. "No more touching?"

One dark eyes opened slyly. "Well, I wouldn't say absolutely 'no' more." She closed her eye and shifted in the pillow, turning over. "And if I did, I'd be lying." She muttered over her shoulder before falling asleep.

Blaise smiled, a truly genuine smile. He slid under the covers behind Heather, wrapping one arm around her middle. Her hand came up, in sleep, to cover his, and in no time, they were asleep; tucked against one another, comfortable in their closeness.

The walk back to the Slytherin common room was much longer than Draco ever remembered. It hadn't started out so bad, but then he'd ducked into the infirmary. Her bed was empty, clean, stripped of everything. Every last trace of her was gone and there was an air of sadness that reverberated off the cold stone walls, smacking Draco over and over, pushing him closer and closer to the brink of insanity.

He walked through the corridors in a daze, nothing real except for the one thing he didn't want to be. While everything else was vague and distant, there was one thing that stood out fresh and harsh in his mind; Ginny was dead. He could grasp onto nothing but that. She was gone. As if that wasn't enough, it was his fault. He blamed himself for what had happened out in the snow. If he hadn't gotten so jealous and angry…if he had listened to her…if he hadn't hit her…she never would have gone out to her death. That fact was eating away at him, and he felt the bitter tears welling up. He would not cry though. There was no reason to. He no longer had Ginny's shoulder to cry on and no one else gave a damn. The only thing he would weep would be blood.

First thing he'd do would be to send a letter to Blaise. After all, he was the only person Draco had ever considered a friend. He at least had a right to know, and Heather had to know that Ginny was dead. But, he couldn't tell them in a letter. That would just be…no. He'd call them back, and let them find out on their own.

He nearly frightened the crap out of two Ravenclaw fourth years he had run into because he was laughing his head off maniacally, something the Draco Malfoy everyone thought they knew would never do. Oh, he knew what he was laughing over wasn't really funny, but he let himself be deluded into thinking it was. And then it had seemed hilarious. Him just walking down the corridors after his love's death, looking like any other student, except for the fact that inside, he was debating how he would kill himself once he reached his room. That _had_ been funny, and he had nearly doubled over in hysterics.

Now he merely strode on, deep in thought.

_Knife? Good, but not necessarily always effective; the only way he could be sure to die was to stab his heart, slit his wrists or throat, or go for the head. The heart would be over too quickly; he wanted to be in pain. Though it was a good idea. Slitting the wrists would take too long-too much chance for discovery, and it wasn't always effective. If he was found, he'd never get another chance; there would always be people watching over him. The head would be good, but difficult to make it through the skull, and again, if he did hit the right target, it would be over far too quickly. Though he didn't want to admit it, he also somewhere deep in the back of his mind, knew that he most likely wouldn't be able to plunge the knife into himself. Besides, where was he going to get a sharp enough dagger from?_

_Poison? Now that would be ideal- get some sort of slow-acting, painfully agonizing poison that could definitely kill him. It was perfect, except he didn't know how to get a hold of such a concoction, and asking where he could find some would be a little dodgy._

_Jumping off a cliff? Good, but again, over in a flash. Though if it wasn't, and he lay there for hours, days, in pain, dying slowly, that would be great._

_Hanging himself? Now there was a possibility- his next best choice after poison, and far easier to accomplish. It would be the perfect death for his needs; long and excruciatingly painful. There was always the chance of discovery, but he could just lock the doors, right? After all, no one would come looking for him. Besides jumping off a cliff, this would be the easiest to do; he could hang himself with almost anything lying around._

Draco smirked to himself. Hanging it was, then. _Let's see, what will I do it with?_

His stormy grey eyes widened with an idea, then crinkled as he broke into another bout of laughter, which lasted all the way to the common room.

Ginny scurried down the empty hallways; everyone was either gorging on the usual extravagant feast, or snuggling up cozily with a loved one in their respective common rooms. Sickening, she would have thought, before Draco. Before Draco, she would have been stuffing herself along with her brother and his friends, or curled up in the Gryffindor common room with her presents and a good book. Before Draco, she hadn't known a lot of things.

And she thought she'd been in love with Harry Potter…the idea was laughable.

Now her heart had room for only one person. The person she was searching for at that moment. The person she was risking possible death from her brother to find. The person for whom she had removed herself from the cozy warmth of her hospital blankets.

It still shocked her once in a while, if she thought about it when she least expected it: she was in love with Draco Malfoy. The boy she loved wasn't the problem, it was his name. After a while of being with him, she'd stopped thinking of him as Malfoy, and began referring to him, even in the private sanctum of her own mind, as Draco. Now, that was all she thought of him as. He was a unique person, someone who couldn't be classified by his surname; he wouldn't let himself be.

Ginny peered around the corner of the corridor.

Empty.

_Damn!_ She thought, cursing her bad luck as she continued along the hallway that lead to the entrance to the school. _Where the hell is he?_ She asked herself.

She'd checked in the library, where only Madame Pince stood, immersed in books she was checking back in. She'd peeked into the Great Hall, where very few people were still seated, eating yet more Christmas dinner. She'd even taken a look outside, freezing her arse off on her broom.

The only other place she could look for him was in Slytherin, and to get in she had to fly through the window. She dragged her broom along the floor, oblivious to the scraping noise it was making as it scratched the hard stone floors.

She reached the wide doors that lead outside, squaring her shoulders as if to shake off the unpleasant thought of spending more time outside. Ginny pushed the doors open and shuddered. It was flipping freezing!

She wrapped her cloak around her body tighter, wishing she had had the sense to grab an extra layer of warmth from her room. It had to be at least ten degrees outside, and the wind was ripping right through her.

Ginny shivered violently and stopped walking. She closed her eyes and forced the goose-bumps from her arms and back. She forced the cold from her, and it worked. To a degree.

Considerably warmer (if you consider about five degrees considerable, and if you don't, it doesn't really matter, because then you wouldn't be considering it in the first place), Ginny trudged along in the snow that came up to her ankles until she got to a magically-cleared pathway, which she followed around the side of the castle, more immersed in her thoughts than in the ankle-deep snow.

She didn't know what it was about Draco that made her want him so badly, but she did. Even though she now finally had Harry's attention, all she could think of was this pale, blonde Slytherin who had stolen her heart, as corny as it sounded.

It made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. She had given up on love when she was fourteen. She broke away from the ideal of everlasting fairytale love that she had become disillusioned with at an early age. Fourteen was too young to stop wanting to love and be loved by one special person, but there you go. She had. After that, she had seen a few other boys, but she knew they wouldn't lead anywhere. She knew that sooner or later, it would just hurt her. She knew that something would happen and someone would get hurt, and left, broken and alone. Most likely it would be her, and it usually was. She was ready to admit that she would never find love. She would just drift through life, living it as she wanted to. Sure, she'd probably see men along the way, but they would be just another way to pass the time.

She wasn't being harsh and cold, that was just how it was. Oh, she would care for them, but they would leave her, she knew. That was her biggest fear: that someday she would actually find love in some form or another, and then it would be gone. Snatched away.

She would be hurt, broken, betrayed. She would cry, and her heart would feel ripped away, for days, weeks, months. She would slowly mend her life back together, ready and whole for the next 'love of her life' to come and destroy again.

She knew that eventually, Draco would leave her. Everyone did. But for the first time in a while, she had actually managed to fool herself into thinking that perhaps there was something there. Something that could keep them together, forever. They had come this far, right?

Ginny shook her head at her own stupid thoughts. Of course they wouldn't. The next pretty girl would come along, and Ginny would be left alone and forgotten again. But would she be able to handle it this time? She cared for him so much. And if she hadn't abandoned the whole true-love thing, she would say that she loved him more than a fish loves water. She felt, for the first time in so long, complete again. She just couldn't let him take that away from her. If anyone would do the pushing away, it would be her. He could take it; he probably didn't really care for her above more than half anyway. And who could blame him? She was nothing special, and he could have more or less whatever (or whoever) he wanted. No, she would push him away. It would still hurt, but if she was in control, it wouldn't hurt so much, right?

It had hurt with everyone else, though. She had pushed Colin away, after he lost interest, and started to eye Hannah Abbot of Hufflepuff. She had pushed Seamus away when she realized he didn't actually like her; he was just using her as a sounding board for his problems and was going out with Lavendar Brown behind her back. And Dean…

Ginny scowled down at the snow. They had pushed each other away. It was horrible, because she had actually felt like they were going somewhere. However, he had been going nowhere but down her pants. She shuddered, recalling the night they had broken up. It was classified as one of the worst moments of her life.

She had only been fourteen…

_They were taking advantage of the rest of Gryffindor being off at the Slytherin-Hufflepuff game that evening. Neither Dean nor Ginny had felt much like going, so they had made their excuses and settled down for a night of relaxing in each other's company. _

_Or so she had thought…_

_She had still been in her clothes from the day, and she'd really wanted to get out of her jeans and into her pajama bottoms and a tee. She also wanted to take a shower; Hagrid had had them combing filthy Augureys, and her fingers were covered in green goo that she wanted to scrub off. _

_She'd turned to Dean and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "I'll be right back." she had said, standing from where she'd been leaning against his chest. He had reached up and grabbed her waist, pulling her back in front of him. "Where are you going?" He'd asked; he was always doing that those days: she could never go anywhere without him giving her the third degree. It was almost obsessive._

_Ginny had laughed, softly, trying to rid herself of the chill of something that ran down her spine, giving him another kiss. "Just going to take a shower and change." She'd explained and headed up to her shower, reveling in the warmth of the running hot water. _

_She'd emerged some minutes later, a towel wrapped around her body. She was ready to pull on some night clothes and disappear under her covers. What she wasn't ready for was to find Dean lying on her bed, already in his pajamas, which consisted of white boxers. Ginny remembered gasping as she whirled around to duck into the bathroom, gasping even harder as Dean jumped up and grabbed her arm. _

_It had been all she could do to not scream. She didn't know what was going on (she had only been fourteen, though Dean was fifteen at the time), but it scared her. Dean was giving her a look that made her want to gag, and his hands were coming up to brush against parts of her that she really didn't like._

"_Dean, please stop." She'd whimpered, pushing his hands away. Dean had growled, actually growled at her, his eyes going shades darker, turning him into some other person she didn't know. This was not her Dean._

_She'd tried everything: walking away, pushing him away, she had even slapped him, trying to bring him back to his senses. He'd merely snarled at her, his palm connecting with her face. She'd reeled across the room he had hit her so hard. Somewhere among the pain and fear, she had managed to keep her scanty towel from falling, tucking it back in tightly. And then there was a hand, fingers burying into her curls, yanking her head back painfully. "Kiss me, damnit." He'd roared, grasping her face and pulling it to his._

_She'd kept her mouth shut and, recalling some of what Fred and George had taught her, kneed him in the groin. He'd crumpled to the ground, and she'd watched for a second, in morbid fascination. _

_Big mistake. Even as she started thinking straight and moved to the safety of her locked bathroom, she felt his hand on her arm again. But this time it really hurt. "Bitch!" It was the first time anyone had ever called her that. And this was someone she thought she had loved. She tried to pull away, but Dean drew his fist back and hit her. _

_Ginny had sat, on the floor, holding her face, shocked and hurt. He had hit her. He had really hit her. Hard. He advanced on her again, grasping her wrists as she struggled to get away from him. He was scaring her. "Dean, stop!" she'd practically screamed, fighting back tears that she was too late to keep from running down her face._

_He'd merely taken both of her wrists in one hand and pulled away her towel with the other. Ginny cried ever harder._

_He would have raped her. Ginny knew it, had seen it in his eyes. Whatever had happened had sent him over the edge, and there was no reasoning with him. Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the worst. _

_He was going to hurt her. Badly. He would have, too, if it weren't for the fact that he suddenly had a brass lamp base coming down on his head with a sickening BANG!_

_And then, Ginny was free. She cracked one eye open. A small, dark-haired girl was standing over Dean's collapsed body, giving it a dirty look as she kicked it aside viciously. She turned her gaze to Ginny, concern overcoming anger._

"_You alright?" she'd asked, pulling a bed sheet from Ginny's bed, and covering the shivering, frightened girl with it, casting a quick warming spell. _

_Ginny nodded. "Oh gods, Heather. I-I thought…" she buried her head in the younger girl's shoulder as she took her in a comforting hug, not really worrying about why Heather was there; her gratitude that she was there was overwhelming as she shook softly, Heather rubbing her back soothingly. _

_They had only really met about a week ago, but this was one of those situations that brought them together, making them friends for at least the next two years. After that, Heather had always been there for her, and Dean had never bothered her again, though she suspected that had something to do with Heather's ability with the Furnunculus Curse. Whatever the matter, Ginny vowed never to fall in love again…_

"Damn." Ginny exclaimed, shaking her head, and glancing up at the ivy-covered wall of the castle. She was doing the same thing with Draco, and it was just as likely to turn out the same way. She stared up, locating the window that opened up into Draco's room. Yes, this was the spot.

Sighing, she swung one leg over her broom and kicked off. She really didn't want to do this…maybe she could just push him away later. She didn't want to, she was just so scared…whatever happened, she just really needed to talk to him right now. There was so much to say. So much to explain.

She edged her broom closer to the window, reaching out to push it open; it hadn't been closed all the way. She flew into the room and promptly fell off her broom.

"No." she breathed, eyes widening. "No. N-n-n-nnnnnooooooooooooo!" she screamed, louder than she ever remembered screaming in her life. The scream rose up from the very center of her being, vibrating through every fiber of her body as she stared up at Draco, swinging from the ceiling by a rope.

"No…" she whispered, rushing forward.

_No._


	14. Wants and Needs

**Author's Note: ** Right, so this is a very, very short chapter, on only Ginny and Draco. Sad, yet satiating. I really like this chapter, and I hope you all do as well. To **MoonlightPrincess**, thanks ever so much for pointing out that, yes, they do need to get around to the dance. I got rather caught up in the story, so here's what's going on. The past several chapters, and the next couple are all taking place on Christmas Day, and after those chapters, there's Boxing Day. The dance isn't until after the holidays, though it will come up eventually. Yes, our couples (if they're still together) will be dancing in it, but not necessarily attending the dance itself. They might be there just to perform. Or maybe they'll go to the dance. I really dunno. Thanks, and ejoy!

**Disclaimer: ** See last 13 chapters for disclaimer. I'm to lazy to write it again.

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 14: Wants and Needs.**

"No…no…no…no…no…no...no...no...no...no...no…" Ginny was chanting as she stumbled across the room, which was blurred by her tears. "No, you can't…no, not…" she was muttering incoherently.

She finally made it to Draco after what seemed like hours of stumbling towards him. His face was going a little blue, and the rope…no…it was her blanket; her Christmas present to him… was making a bright red mark on his neck, in stark contrast to the rest of him, lifeless and pale.

No, no, no, no, no…

She looked up at his eyes. They were open, and she gasped audibly, fumbling around in her pockets for her wand as they closed slowly.

He was still alive. Barely, but he was. She could see it in his eyes. "Fuck!" she screamed, digging around for her wand while the boy she loved was trickling his life away. She finally grasped her wand and pointed it at the rope. "Inciso!" she yelled, catching Draco in her arms as the rope snapped.

Ginny lowered him to the ground, resting his head in her lap. Her tears, cold and burning at the same time, fell onto his face and into his slightly open mouth. Sobbing, she loosened the rope from his neck, ripping at it with her bare hands, her fingernails ripping and snagging painfully. But she didn't care. Why wouldn't he open his eyes again?

"Draco." She cried, stroking his face softly, her fingers moving from his cheek to his jaw to his throat, to feel his pulse. It was weak and spastic, but it was there. Relief flooded Ginny's body, her head growing heavy and light as it overwhelmed her.

Recalling something she'd read in a book, she cupped her fists together. Praying to every deity she could think of, she slammed them into his chest. His body jerked up as she hit him again, pounding on his chest as more tears leaked from her face. "Wake up…w-wake up, damnit-t-t." she sobbed, beating on his chest.

And then he moved. On his own; he just twitched slightly, and Ginny could almost feel the life come back to him. "Oh gods." She croaked, her hands falling to his chest lightly as her shoulders slumped. She reached for her wand.

"Rusulus." She whispered, feeling his pulse strengthen under her fingers.

Draco's eyes opened slightly, flickering shut just as quickly. He groaned, stirring in her arms. "Oh gods, Draco!" Ginny breathed, reaching down to wrap her arms around him, needing to hold him, make sure he was alive and fine.

She felt him tense.

He knew that voice.

"Ginny?!" he whispered huskily, pushing away and rubbing at his raw throat. Ginny took note of that and stood, grabbing a glass from Draco's nightstand and (gently propping Draco against the side of his bed) rushed to the bathroom to fill it with cold water.

She came back and knelt before him, offering the full glass to him. He didn't take it. He just sat there, shocked beyond anything she could imagine. She reached down and pressed the glass to his lips. Water trickled down his sore throat, soothing it somewhat.

But it was nothing compared to seeing Ginny again. It was like seeing the dead. How was it possible? She was dead, wasn't she?

Ginny cocked her head, looking confused. "Of course I'm not dead." She frowned slightly.

"Did I say that out loud?" Draco rasped, still in numb shock. Ginny grinned and nodded, her eyes growing moist again. "Gods, when I saw you up there, I thought-I just thought that-" she broke off into racking sobs, leaning against him, her head cradled to his chest.

Draco hesitantly put his arms around her. He felt the familiar bumps of her spine on her back, he smelled the familiar fragrance of her citrus shampoo, and he heard the familiar sound of her crying. It really was her. She was alive. He didn't know how, and honestly, he didn't care; she was alive and in his arms, and there was nothing anyone could do that would change that.

Ginny slipped her arms around his middle, hugging him close to her, feeling some of the same things he was. She had to be sure he was really there with her. She couldn't let him go. She just needed to hold him.

They sat there, sitting on the floor, wrapped around each other, clinging desperately as if the world was about to split in half, tearing them apart.

Many minutes later, Ginny pulled back, her eyes and face blotchy and red. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and gave Draco a long, hard look. Now that she was sure he was truly there…

SMACK!

Draco rubbed the side of his cheek disbelievingly. He'd just nearly killed himself, had just found out that his girl was still alive, and after holding each other for who knew how long, she sat back only to slap him?!?!

"What the hell was that for?" He fumed, rubbing his slowly reddening cheek.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You nearly gave me a bloody heart attack! I thought you were dead! I could…kill you, you made me so scared!" she pulled her hand back, ready to hit him again.

This time, however, Draco was ready. As she flew at him, and scooted to the side and caught her before she ran into the bed. He snaked an arm around her back, pulling her close to him in a tender, yet searing kiss that made Ginny forget that she was angry at him. He finally pulled away, and stared at her.

"What the hell was that for?" she asked softly, mimicking his words.

He smiled down at her, not believing his good fortune. "You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack." He growled, somehow managing to look dangerous, though all he wanted to do was kiss the living daylights out of her. "I thought you were dead!"

Ginny felt realization dawn on her, and was surprised to see that she rally didn't care. He was there; explanations would come later. She leaned in again, stopping barely an inch from his face. "Oh, alright then." She said, before their lips touched.

Ginny tightened her arms around Draco's pulling him close. So when he shuddered and his chest started heaving with silent tears, she felt it quite clearly.

She tried to pull back, but his arms were locked around her waist, and unless he wanted it, she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. She did manage, however, to break her lips from his. She leaned her head back, trying to get a good look at him. A single, silvery tear slid down his cheek, coming to a stop at the line of his jaw. His eyes were red around the edges and his pupils were large and shimmering with unshed tears.

His broken look made her want to cry. "Draco-I...you're…" she sighed, biting her tongue gently. "…you're crying." She said simply, reaching down to where his tear had settled, wiping it away with the ball of her thumb.

Draco just stared at her, those huge brown eyes fixed on her thumb, which she was holding up in front of her face. He could feel the pain coming from her, proven by the watery gaze that wasn't on him right now.

He reached up to cup her cheek in his hand. She finally looked away from her thumb, eyes shinning and sad, her gaze landing on him. "You're crying." She said again, trying to make herself believe it. "You never cry." She said shakily, staring up at him with confusion and mellow sorrow.

Draco grasped her hand in his, drawing her wet thumb from her line of vision. He pulled it to his mouth and kissed it, tasting his own salty tear. "I am now." He said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

Ginny shook her head, eyes squeezing shut. "No, you don't…why are you crying?" she changed tactics, opening her eyes to look at him. He glanced away, staring intently down at the floor. He felt her cold fingers turn his face to look at her again.

"Why are you crying?" she repeated, staring deep into his stone cold eyes, as if trying to find the reason behind his tears in the salty liquid itself. "Did I do something…wrong? I'm so sorry, Draco. I didn't mean to leave you…earlier. I just got…scared." She glanced down, feeling a rush of tears.

How could she tell him that he had really hurt her? That when he touched her and shoved her around like that, it brought back painful memories of Tom Riddle from her first year, the horrible boy who would become the most dangerous wizard of their time, and of Dean. Though in comparison to the two banes of her reasonless life, Draco had been practically gentle. After all, he hadn't really hit her, had he?

Draco stared down at her, red head bowed, leaning into his chest, shoulders already shaking with the tears he had known were coming. She couldn't think this was her fault. He wasn't mad at her, he was just so afraid that she was gone. He had come so close to death, and it would have been pointless, since she was still alive. Had she not come in, or even come a minute or two later, he would have lost her for real, and his life would have been meaningless. Now, he actually had a chance at life. And he was going to take advantage of it.

His hand dropped hers, traveling up her arm and to her shoulder, rubbing her back and neck awkwardly. "Ginny, please don't cry." He pleaded. "It's not you. Back there, this morning…" he broke off. "I lost it. I know it's a great way to lose you, but I can't stand the thought of you being with someone else, especially Potter. I can't stand the thought of you in someone else's arms. And I can't stand the thought of someone else kissing you and touching you. I don't play well with others, and I sure as hell have never shared well, so you'll just have to get used to me for a while." He winced. Wrong way to go about winning her back.

Ginny looked up at him, her eyes growing wide and hopeful.

"Will you stay with me?" she asked softly, afraid that if she spoke too loud, the entire scene before her would float away, and she would never hear what he had to say, and her whole world was riding on that. Someone who loved her…someone who would stay with her…forever. She shuddered. That would never happen, not in a million years. He wasn't the type for long-term commitments.

"Ginny, you'll have to pry yourself off me with a crowbar to get me to leave you." He leaned closer, and his voice went low and raspy again. "I thought I lost you once. I'll never do it again. I won't let that happen." He pulled her close, his thumb running over her jaw and lower lip.

"I can't leave you now." He said softly.

The tender moment vanished as Ginny threw herself at Draco.

If he thought she was crying before, now she was fucking Niagara Falls. Her arms wrapped around his neck, but instead of hanging there loosely, they tightened completely around his neck, her head burying into the nook of his shoulder, pressing her chest to his.

His arms circled her back, rubbing it softly, shaking from the force of her sobs. Her chest shook, and it was breaking his concentration on her state. Trying to keep his mind from her frail form in his arms, and his hands from running all over her, he reached up awkwardly and smoothed the hair at the back of her head.

"Ginny…?" Draco asked into her hair, pressing a tiny butterfly kiss there. "What's wrong?" she mumbled something into his neck.

He turned to her. "What was that?"

"Nothing. That's just it. Nothing's wrong; everything's perfect. It's just…I never expected it to be, and now…" she stopped, realizing that she was making absolutely no sense whatsoever.

"You promise?" she asked shakily.

Draco smiled down into her hair. So that was what this was all about…

"Ginny, I will never leave you, not even in death. If you can ever forgive me for being such a stupid ass, I want you to know that…I really like you. I don't ever want to hurt you, so I'll keep love for another time, after we've known each other longer. I'm crazy about you, but as I've told myself several times, I'm just not worth it, for someone like you. I know it sounds sentimental and sappy, but I do love you, more than you will ever know." He looked down at her, grinning.

Ginny cried even harder. It would hurt so bad when he left her; she knew he would. It was inevitable, but she wanted him so much. She felt alive and carefree again; an innocent once more. She was now that happy, forever smiling child that she thought she had lost two years ago. The pain was still there, it would always be; but with Draco it was lessened, and she could actually truly smile and be free. What would happen when he left?

She buried her face in his neck again. "I don't care." She whispered shakily, and Draco held her tighter, trying to comfort her and protect her from whatever inner demons she was facing; it didn't matter what they were. "I don't care. I don't care. I don't-" She chanted softly, words catching in her throat; her breath reverberating off Draco's neck and coming back into her face, warming the tears that were sliding off her cheeks and falling like raindrops on Draco's shoulder, where they continued a trail through his robes and shirt, going straight through to the skin on his collarbone.

From there they went straight to his heart, opening up a part of him that he'd never thought he'd see or feel again. The part of him that had run from his father's beatings; the part of him that had worshipped every rare kiss his mother had given him, even if they were forced. Ginny's tears, flowing so freely, brought back the little boy who wept when him father beat his mother.

Soon his tears were falling, seemingly from that newly torn opening in his heart, to mingle with hers, bringing them together in a non-verbal understanding that no words could have achieved.

Two teens, lost in the world, found themselves that night; on the night that they found each other.


	15. Trust Me

**Author's Note:** OK, chapter 15, and I think this might be the last one for today. Yeah, I uploaded like 7 chapters today, my fingers hurt. So...yet another trip to the hospital, Ron's being an ass, and just major confusion all around. Remember, Draco thought Ginny was dead. Eeekkk. So, short A.N., back to writing. Enjoy! Sorry, ejoy!

**Disclaimer:** See last 14 chapters.

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 15: Trust Me.**

"Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know. Where do you want to go?"

"I just want to stay here."

"Here?"

"With you."

"We don't have to stay here, you know."

"I just don't want to leave you. Not again."

"Don't worry, I won't let you."

Draco held Ginny to his chest, stroking her head comfortingly as she continued crying tears they both wanted to shed. He was serious; he wasn't going to let her go, not after what had nearly happened; after what he thought he had lost.

Ginny finally pulled back, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes. "But we can't stay together, always. Hell, we can't even be seen together. I can't stand not being able to be with you every second, let alone every day." She looked up at him appealingly.

"What are we going to do? That's all I want to know. Where do "we" go from here? What do we do now? Will we do it together?" She broke off, voice catching.

She hung her head, a small laugh coming from her that surprised Draco. He glanced down at her.

"I seem to be crying more and more these days." She whispered, her voice low and lost. "I just don't…know-I don't know what to do." She finished shakily, latching onto Draco again. She needed his comforting touch.

Draco grinned, knowing she couldn't see it.

"Why can't we be together? Eh? Why can't we be seen together? I don't mind." He glanced down at her. Her shoulders slumped.

"I want to. I want to be able to. I want to be just like any other couple. But we just can't. My family…your family…you…me…it just won't allow…" she put her head in her hands.

Draco shook his head, frowning slightly. "No. No, it would allow." He pulled Ginny back from him, searching her eyes. "But you have to let it, Ginny. You can't just give up; I know you're stronger than that. Do you just not want to put that much effort into this? If that's the case, then maybe this won't work. But it is up to you."

He moved to stand, but Ginny tugged him back down.

She grabbed his face in her hands, forcing his gaze to meet hers. "Don't you ever, ever say that. Don't you ever think I don't care enough. I care more than I should for you. You just don't understand. My family is everything to me. Unlike you, I don't have money and power, all I have is them. I-I know that in time…if we can make it that far…they'll understand. They'll allow. But until then, we just have to keep this to ourselves."

She shook her head. "It's…complicated. If we told them now, they would only see you as I first did: that horrible, cold, unapproachable boy who didn't give a damn for the world. I don't think they'd like that too much. So please…we can give this a try, and I will try my hardest, but please, just let's not tell anyone just yet. Wait, let them see the real you." She pleaded, looking down.

_Way to go, Gin. She thought to herself. That's just the way to push him away. Far, far away. Brilliant, you stupid twit. She mentally berated herself._

Draco caught her chin, lifting her head up. To her immense shock, he was smiling. "I know. I just wanted to see how…devoted…you are. I understand" his eyebrows rose in amusement, "that you'd want your family's approval. It's the same way that I would want your approval; because you mean so much to me. So I'll wait. But I want to know one thing-" he broke off.

"Yes?" Ginny prompted, tilting her head to the side.

"Why did you ever give me a chance? I mean, if you did see that 'horrible, cold, unapproachable boy', why did you let me get close to you?"

Ginny grinned wryly. "Did you know…my eyes are perfect? I have excellent vision, even sharper than most people do. I can see farther and in darker conditions." She shook her head to herself, missing the confused look Draco shot her. "I saw, with those perfect eyes, a horrible, cold, unapproachable boy whose hatred was only outdone by how much he was hated. I myself hated him…"

"Well, so then why did you ever even come within touching distance of me?" Draco protested. Nothing she was saying was making any sense, nor did it have anything to do with why she'd ever trusted him, kissed him, or loved him.

Ginny smiled softly. She reached up and touched his cheek softly. "Because I closed my eyes." She said simply. "I stopped trusting my eyes; my eyes, which had never failed me, and I started listening to something else." She took his hand and placed it to the left side of her chest. "My heart. And it told me a whole different story. It said that you were just a boy; that underneath that tough exterior, there was someone there that I could love. So I opened my eyes again, but I kept my heart open as well. And I fell in love with you. It's as simple as that." She gave him a quick smile and threw her arms around his neck.

Draco sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. His head was spinning, and he placed a hand to his forehead to try and steady himself.

Ginny suddenly pulled back. "What the hell is wrong with me? I must be temporarily insane." She stood suddenly, and bent down to grasp at Draco's arm.

He pulled it away, ears buzzing. "I wouldn't say temporarily…but yes, you are insane. And I love you just the same, so would you mind telling me why exactly you think you're insane this time?"

Ginny groaned, rolled her eyes, and reached down to pull him to his feet. He groaned and swayed on his feet, nearly falling over. Ginny caught him and helped him steady himself.

"I should have gotten you to Madame Pomfrey first thing. I don't know what I was thinking. Now come on, you are spending the night in the hospital wing, even if I have to knock you out and take you there myself." She twirled her wand prettily. "And you know I would, too. You never know what we insane people will do next."

Draco grinned and complied, leaning on her shoulder. He wasn't feeling too great, and would prefer to avoid his boneheaded housemates' stupid and annoying questions, so off to the hospital wing it was.

"So…how are we going to explain you walking me from my room to the hospital wing?"

Ginny glanced over at Draco. He was staring ahead at the room's door.

"Pardon?" She asked, raising one eyebrow.

Draco grinned, lifting his hand to point a finger at the door. "You have to walk me through my common room." He smirked evilly at her. "And guess where just about every Slytherin who stayed here for the holidays is right now?"

Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, and about a dozen others, mostly third, fifth, and sixth years all blinked in confusion when Draco seemingly flew from his dormitory room, falling halfway down the stairs, cursing wildly.

Several of the Slytherins would have sworn that he'd been kicked out, but on further examination, the mildly curious Slytherins found that the room was empty.

Closing the open window, Crabbe shook his head sluggishly. "Don't get it." He told Goyle, who was watching Draco descend the rest of the stairs to the common room, cursing all the way down.

"Don't get what?" Goyle asked distractedly.

"Malfoy."

"Yeah, he's weird. Thinks he's too good for the likes of us." Goyle spat, watching the slim blonde boy kick the portrait hole open, jumping nimbly out.

"Too scared to get the Mark. Big disappointment for daddy Malfoy." Crabbe snickered dumbly, following Goyle from the room to go stuff their faces with leftover cakes.

Draco wandered down the hallway that lead from his dormitory to the hospital wing, muttering to himself and alternately rubbing his painfully throbbing arse.

He was about to turn around and to hell with Ginny's wishes when the pretty red-head he'd just been mentally cursing rounded the corridor's corner, broom over her shoulder.

"Took you long enough." She taunted, sticking her tongue out playfully at him as she moved into step with him.

"Well if someone hadn't shoved me out the goddamn room, I wouldn't have landed on my arse in the middle of a bunch of inquisitive Slytherins…" he trailed off, glaring at her.

Ginny cocked her head innocently. "That's not true – I kicked you out of the goddamn room so you could land on your arse in the middle of a bunch of inquisitive Slytherins." She corrected, avoiding Draco as he swung at her.

He missed, nearly loosing his balance as his head spun again. Ginny reached out and caught him around the middle before he fell flat on his face. He grinned up at her and leaned back all his weight in her arms.

"Draco!" Ginny shrieked as she fell forward on top of Draco, who was grinning smartly. Ginny landed on his stomach, glaring down at him.

"And now I've knocked you down on your arse to land on the middle of a very inquisitive Slytherin." Draco joked, his arms sliding around her waist.

"Draco! We're in the middle of the hallway! Anyone could see us!" She frowned thoughtfully down at him. He shrugged. "Quite frankly, Ginny, I couldn't care less."

"We can't…" Ginny protested, standing quickly, biting at her thumbnail. Draco also stood, coming up to encircle Ginny with his arms. She put her arms around his neck, pulling herself up on her toes to lean against his chest.

Draco held her tighter. "We can." He said simply.

Something sparked then, in Ginny. She pulled back, but she didn't go far. She looked up at Draco with an odd gleam in her eyes. Draco knew that gleam. That gleam was there when she'd first kissed him. That gleam had been there on the countless times she told him off for doing something wrong or mean. That was the gleam of defiance.

He was beginning to like that gleam.

Ginny smiled up at him. "Okay, new rules; we don't tell our parents, or anyone else for that matter. But we don't sneak around." Draco's eyes lit up. "We go about like any normal couple would, and if anyone sees us, to hell with them." She leaned in again, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck, breathing in the light smell of his shampoo.

Draco smiled into her neck. "Gods, you are something."

Ginny smiled as well. "Yes I am, but I really don't want to know exactly what. I'm afraid I might get insulted." She pressed her lips to his, soft, short, and sweet.

Draco pulled back after (in Ginny's opinion), too short a time. "You know, I have a colossal migraine right now, and you kissing me really isn't helping." He leered down at her, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at her as she had done several times to him. "My head's already pounding, thank you very much." He placed a tiny kiss on her nose.

Ginny scoffed, linking arms with him. "You're such a pain, you know that?"

"No, I'm in pain, though that's mostly your fault." He teased.

Ginny grew tense, and clutched at his arm, pulling him to a stop. "What? What did I say?" Draco asked, turning to face her.

Ginny peered up at him, a question in her eyes flitting back and forth, trying to decide whether or not it should be asked.

"Ginny…" Draco pressed. "What is it?"

Ginny bit her lip and glanced down, then back up at him, cocking her head. "Why did you…you know, try to…" her voice caught and she closed her eyes, willing tears away. Draco stepped closer, but she held up her hand. "I'm fine. I'm fine." She shook her head, and opened her eyes.

Suddenly, they went from soft and sad to hard and angry. She lifted her hand and slapped him across the face.

"Ow!" Draco hissed, touching his reddening cheek. "What the hell, that's like five times in one day!"

Ginny stepped back, putting her hands on her hips in a frighteningly good imitation of Molly Weasley. "Well, you deserve it. You were being a prat, and you needed to know that you were being a prat…you prat." She added, wrinkling her nose at him.

"What did I do?" Draco frowned.

Ginny's eyebrows shot straight up. "What the hell do you mean, what did you do, you prat?" She reached up and flicked him on the ear. "You tried to kill yourself. Now why?" she asked, her eyes softening again. She pulled him along, and began walking with him once more. At this point they would never make it to the hospital wing.

Draco sighed. He knew that sooner or later she'd want to know what that whole scene had been about. At least she'd left it for a while before badgering him about it. Seeing how it was definitely deemed the worst moment (not to mention most humiliation) of his life, he really didn't want to talk about it. Especially not to Ginny. Being around her level-headedness only made him feel even more idiotic. He would sound so stupid trying to explain why he did what he did.

_In that case, simpler is better. He thought._

"After that scene this morning, I left to find you. I wanted-" he broke off. It wasn't like he'd ever apologized for anything before, being a Malfoy. "I wanted to say how sorry I was. I didn't mean to hurt you, but when your brother said you were going with Potter to-" Ginny turned and clapped her hand over his mouth.

"I don't care, Draco. That was partly my fault as well. I should have listened to you, instead of running away. You just scared me, that was all." Draco flinched and she took his hand in hers. "I should have known better than to be scared." She gave him a soft smile, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him along.

"But, going on…I don't care about anything except why I found you dangling by a rope in the middle of your room. Why were you trying to kill yourself?" she forced out, biting the inside of her cheek as images of him hanging from the ceiling, life draining, flashed through her mind.

"You…were dead." Draco began. "I left you in the hospital wing with Madame Pomfrey. She said…she said that if you didn't wake up today your chances of ever waking up were…not too great." He sighed, frustrated with himself and tired.

"I left. I couldn't take it anymore; just standing around doing nothing waiting for you to wake up or to stop living…so I left. Your brother and his 'friends' were there, so I thought you'd be in good hands." His gaze hardened. "I wandered around a bit and went to the library…to think. Those two Hufflepuff girls from dance class came in a while later." Draco suddenly frowned, his gaze growing thoughtful.

"Then…who were they talking about?" he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Ginny. She arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Uh…yeah." Draco snapped back to reality. "Um…they were talking about…someone, about how she was 'gone' and how unexpected it was…and…I thought they were talking about you." He shook his head. Yep, he did sound stupid.

"I guess I just couldn't get you off my mind, because you were what automatically jumped into my head when they were talking. All I could think was that you were dead."

Ginny felt his shudder. She grasped his middle tighter.

"You can't imagine what that was like…and I just thought about how I never told you how much you mean to me. You were…-are the only thing that matters anymore. Like it or not, you're stick with me. Because after spending half a day of thinking you were dead and gone, I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

He turned, pulling Ginny to a stop. She glanced farther down the hallway. "But we have to get you to the hospital win-"

Draco pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her futile protests. "Fuck it." He shrugged negligently, grasping her upper arms. "I feel fine…at least, now that you're here."

Ginny leaned into his arms. "Gods, you sound cheesy." She rested her head on his chest. "Damned hopeless closet romantic." She murmured softly.

Draco's arms moved around her back, clutching her tightly. To hell with the hospital wing…this was all he needed.

Ginny pulled away and stood on the tips of her toes to brush her lips across his forehead.

"Come on, we're still taking you to see Madame Pomfrey. I'm no expert on trauma or internal problems, but I want to make sure you're alright." She gave him a long, hard look. "Even though you are a thick, dim-witted dolt of a ferret, I still worry about you. There is no way in heaven or in hell that I'm going to take any chances. Now, not another word until we get there, understood?" She said firmly, tugging him along again.

"You know Weasley, I'm getting tired of being dragged around like a rag doll." Draco quipped. Ginny whirled on him, pressing her lips to his before he could continue.

She broke away just as he tried to pull her closer. "I said no more talking. Now shut up and let's go, or I'll magic you there myself."

"Evil wench." Draco growled playfully, wondering exactly what she would do.

Ginny turned, hands on her hips. "Draco, shut up. For once in your life, shut up."

"What will you do if I don't?" Draco teased, pinching her side.

Batting his hand away, Ginny turned, giving him a glare that could have killed, but which only made Draco laugh at how cute she was, even in these situations. "If you don't shut up…I'll…make you…somehow. I… don't quite know how…but I will." She stammered, frustrated that she really couldn't do anything to make him be quiet. Despite her angry exterior, she was scared to death on the inside. He'd nearly killed himself for her. How…Romeo of him. How stupid of him. If she'd been a minute later…

She shuddered, the glare dropping from her face. Suddenly and unexpectedly, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist again. She nestled her face in his chest, her head pounding as she fought back the unrelenting wave of tears that threatened to resurface.

"Don't you ever do that to me again." She said shakily. "You said you were scared and hurt when you heard what happened to me, or what you thought happened to me…I felt the same thing when I saw you-" she broke off, biting her lip "-when I saw you hanging there. Promise me you will never, ever pull a stunt like that again. Killing yourself would have solved nothing. I don't want you to die for me. So please, whatever happens…never do that again."

Draco frowned. It wasn't like he'd done it to hurt her…in fact, it was just the opposite.

"Come on, Gin. We'd better get going." He said simply, this time taking the initiative and pulling the tiny red-head along. Ginny sighed and allowed herself to be propelled towards the hospital wing.

They didn't talk the rest of the way to the wing. Draco sank onto the nearest cot, head thudding again while Ginny went off in search of Madame Pomfrey.

Knocking softly on the healer's office door, she walked in.

"Madame Pomfrey?" She asked.

The witch looked up from where she was mixing a potion with her wand. "Miss Weasley! There you are! You gave us quite a turn when we found you'd left without a word. Your brother's out searching for you. You haven't been off running about, have you? You've got to take it easy, you know." She clicked her tongue, shaking her head.

"So what is it? Got a headache? You should have stayed in bed, with wounds like those…"

"No, Madame Pomfrey…" she broke in. "…it's not me, it's…um…Malfoy. I think he might be hurt. Will you just check on him?" she asked, hoping the healer wouldn't ask why or how Draco was hurt. They hadn't really quite thought that far.

However, the nurse's mind was on other things. "Malfoy? You're…helping Malfoy?" seeming to realize what she was saying and who she was talking to, she straightened up.

"Right, er…where is Mr. Malfoy?" she asked, standing and walking to the door.

"Out in the first cot by the door. He's…erm…got a headache, and he's a little dizzy."

Madame Pomfrey scoffed as she shuffled over to the cot. "Really? Well, I'm surprised he hasn't woken up the entire wing with his complaints. A headache, eh? Well, we must make sure the poor dear isn't dying, right?" she spat sarcastically.

Ginny recalled, in her second year, when Draco had been injured by Hagrid's hippogriff Buckbeak. Madame Pomfrey had done her best, fixing the wound, but Draco had made quite a fuss over it, nearly costing Hagrid his job. Ginny frowned.

_Guess Madame P. hasn't quite forgiven him, then. She thought grimly._

She turned to face the head nurse, clasping onto her robes. Madame Pomfrey turned to Ginny, one eyebrow arched almost comically. "Yes, Miss Weasley?" She asked, nonplussed.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny let go of Madame Pomfrey's robes. "Madame Pomfrey…I know that in the past Dr-uh, Malfoy hasn't been exactly the best or nicest person…" Madame Pomfrey scoffed ("That's the understatement of the year.") "…but a person can change. That was four years ago. People change." She looked appealingly into the older woman's disbelieving eyes.

"Please, believe me. I know him. He _has _changed; he's not the same insufferable git that he was four years ago. Now he's an older, more mature, and somewhat nicer insufferable git." That evoked the tiniest of smiles from the severe teacher.

"Yes, well, be that as it may…I'll just take a look at him then, shall I?" she turned back to where Draco was sitting stiffly on his cot.

As Madame Pomfrey began examining Draco, he turned to Ginny. "An insufferable git?" he quirked, fighting to keep a smile off his face.

Ginny flushed, covering her face with a hand.

"If you're going to insult someone, do it out of their audile range, eh?" he smirked.

Ginny flamed, but shot his own sneer back at him. "You needed to hear it anyways. Insufferable git." She stuck her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes, wincing as Madame Pomfrey poked his neck a bit too enthusiastically. "Oy, watch it, you. That hurts!" He snarled at her.

Madame Pomfrey turned to Ginny, raising one eyebrow as if to say "I told you so."

Ginny stepped beside Draco, placing a hand on his arm. "Draco."

That was all it took. All she did was say his name in that disappointed, pitying tone of voice, and he immediately bent to her will, becoming at once contrite; something he'd never done before, let alone to someone he didn't particularly like and who was prodding him painfully.

"I-apologize, Madame Pomfrey." He gritted out, looking as though it was causing him much pain. "Would you mind…that hurts rather a lot." He ground out.

Madame Pomfrey's jaw fell straight down. Ginny had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Draco himself was fighting to keep from grinning.

"We-well, y-yes, I-I…that's quite alright…Mr. Malfoy." The witch stammered, fumbling for her wand. She summoned a glass of reddish-brown substance after several attempts. She handed it to Draco. "Drink this. I'm afraid you'll have to stay overnight. You're throat is raw, and I see bruising there. I'm not quite sure what you've done to yourself, but your lungs aren't doing too well either. That drink will give your immune system a little kick, as well as get your internal organs functioning properly again."

She stood there as Draco downed the glass and began to move away. "Miss Weasley." She called, beckoning Ginny to follow her. Ginny gave Draco a reassuring smile and stepped into the nurse's office behind her.

Madame Pomfrey dug around in a closet for a moment before pulling out a jar of some sticky red substance, placing it in her pocket. She turned to Ginny, eyeing her peculiarly. "Well, I can't deny that young Master Malfoy is…different…though I really can't understand why…but, if you trust in him, Miss Weasley (here she gave Ginny an even harder look), then I suppose I can allow that he has changed. I appreciate your faith in him, but do be careful, Miss Weasley. People can change, as you said yourself." She frowned thoughtfully, her eyes growing sad. "Be careful that he doesn't change back into the person he used to be." She said warningly, stepping from the room.

Ginny stood there for several minutes, pondering Madame Pomfrey's words. _Well, that was…enlightening. Who would have thought I'd be discussing my trust in Draco with Madame Pomfrey?_ She shook her head and walked back into the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey was walking down the rows of beds, checking in on her other patients as Ginny walked by. "I'm afraid you're a little late, Miss Weasley; Mr. Malfoy has already fallen asleep from the potion I gave him." She said briskly, moving on.

"Please, Madame Pomfrey…may I stay with him for a while? It's Christmas night, and I've nothing else to do." Her eyes sought Madame Pomfrey's. The older witch's harsh gaze softened. "If you wish, Miss Weasley, but it's no use; he won't wake up for at least another few hours."

Ginny nodded. "That's alright, Madame Pomfrey. And thank you." She added, before walking over to take a seat next to Draco's cot. As the older woman walked off, shaking her head, Ginny edged her chair closer to his bed.

In sleep, Draco looked almost angelic. The sneering smirk was gone, the harsh eyes closed, and the perpetually scrunched-up nose was as it should be. He looked suddenly younger and kinder. She could almost imagine him opening his eyes and gazing at her softly, with love. But he never did. There were times where he came close, but then he would turn away, or break their gaze, and when he looked back, it would be with a guarded expression. What she wouldn't give to have him look at her with love, just once, to know that he did.

The door to the hospital wing opened, but Ginny was getting too tired to find out who it was. Besides, it didn't really matter anymore.

She sighed and leaned forward, entwining her fingers with his. "I do love you, Draco Malfoy." She said softly, knowing and rather taking comfort in the fact that he couldn't hear her. The hospital wing door slammed shut again.

Tentatively, she glanced around. The wing was empty, save for Madame Pomfrey, who was bustling about the beds. Turning back to Draco, she leaned forward the rest of the way, resting her cheek on the bed, her forehead grazing his arm.

Exhausted from her own injuries and the trials of the day, she fell asleep.

"Queen to F9. Checkmate!"

"Damn, that's the fifth time in a row!"

"Sorry, Harry. That's wizard's chess." Ron smirked, picking up his pieces.

Harry groaned and sat back in his chair by the fire in the Gryffindor common room.

"Bloody hell." He mumbled as Hermione strode briskly through the portrait hole, coming over to sit by them.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Harry shot Ron a glance. The red-haired boy merely smirked and swept a pile of brightly-wrapped candies into his pocket. "I've just lost all the Fizzing Whisbees you sent me for Christmas, 'Mione." Harry grumbled as Ron unwrapped a lollipop and stuck it in his mouth.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well it's a good thing I found Ginny, because you two obviously trying too hard." She glared at them.

Ron sat straight up, spitting out the candy. "You've found Gin? Well, where the bloody hell is she? Is she alright? Where did she disappear to?" He asked, rushing over to Hermione.

The girl stood quickly, backing Ron off. "She's fine, Ron. She's been with Malfoy. That's where I saw her. She was in the hospital wing there, sitting next to his bed. Apparently, from the way Madame Pomfrey was grumbling, he's not feeling too well."

"And all the better, too." Ron said angrily, stalking around the room while Hermione and Harry watched on. "I don't like this, 'Mione. I dunno how I let you talk me into letting this go on, but it's going to stop soon. I don't buy that he had nothing to do with how Ginny got hurt. There were bruises on her arms that weren't from any wolf I've ever seen. Not unless wolves have suddenly sprouted fingers." He said grimly.

Hermione stood and walked over to Ron, taking his hand in hers. Harry's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing.

"Ron, just let her figure things out for herself, alright? She's old enough to make her own decisions. I've talked to Malfoy. You know as well as I do that he's changed. He hasn't bothered us in ages. Maybe they're just good for each other." She shrugged, but Ron only yanked his hand away.

"I don't care what you or anyone else says, she's too good for that self-centered little ponce." He growled. "I'm going to do what I should have done from the beginning; I'm going to put a stop to this."

Hermione grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. "Ron, you can't. It's not your place. You can't make that decision." She said, her voice pleading reason with him.

Ron's eyes darkened as he pulled away and stalked over to the stairs. "Then I'll just have a talk with someone who can." He said darkly, striding away from his two best friends.


	16. Sibling Rift

**Author's Note:** Last chapter for a while. Perhaps for a week or so. I was hoping to get this story finished before I go back to school in 3 days, but that's not too likely. So if you're crazy enough to be interested in this story, please have a little patience. And sorry. I'll try to keep up with about a chapter a week (I may only be able to upload and write on weekends, so if I have homework, it may not happen). Um...yeah, from the title...this chapter has a fight scene between Ron and Ginny, but it's brief and not too violent. Please, read and ejoy. Thanks... from Fields.

**Disclaimer:** See last fifteen chapters.

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 16: Sibling Rift**

Blaise woke early the next morning, on Boxing Day. So he was surprised to find that Heather was already gone. He smirked to himself. Wasn't it usually the guys who left the girls asleep in bed? Perhaps that only applied if they'd actually slept together…

He slid from the bed, shivering slightly as he pulled on a thick woolen robe and a shirt.

He walked quietly from the room, tip-toeing through the hall to the kitchen. Heather was sitting there, on the counter, one leg pulled up to her chest as she watched Skye fixing breakfast.

"What on earth is that?" Blaise asked, surprising both witches as he entered the room. Skye was stirring a bowl of dark brown goo vigorously. She glanced up for a second.

"Hiya Blaise." She said cheerfully. "You're up early." She commented dryly. Blaise rarely woke before ten unless he had to. It was a bout seven now.

"Yeah. What _are_ you making?" he asked, dipping a finger in the slimy substance. He peered at it suspiciously.

"Chocolate cake batter." She chirped, stirring again.

Blaise's eyebrow shot straight up in surprise. "For breakfast?" He asked, incredulously. Skye shrugged. "Why not?"

Heather glanced at Blaise, as amused as he was. "Why not?" she echoed.

Blaise shrugged.

A loud FWAP! startled them all. Skye jumped, nearly dropping the bowl of cake mix. "Ouch." Heather commented listlessly, staring out the window over the sink.

Blaise followed her gaze. Smashed flat against the window in a flurry of feathers was a large, impressive barn owl, a letter tied around it's leg. Blaise jumped up, heading for the window.

"I know that owl! That's Draco's owl." Heather and Skye glanced up interestedly as Blaise opened the window, the bird flopping heavily into the sink. "S'alright Medea." Blaise said soothingly, petting the bird distractedly as he removed the envelope from the bird's leg.

Heather leapt down from the counter, coming to look over Blaise's shoulder as he opened the letter, which was addressed to the both of them. "Is that from Draco? What's he want? I swear, if he asks me one more time what to do with Ginny, I'll send him a curse by owl post." Heather laughed, rolling her eyes.

Blaise unfolded the letter and began to read it as the large owl stood and flew wobbly from the room, dipping and swaying occasionally.

Blaise tensed and turned away, nearly crumpling the letter he'd been reading. "We're going." He said.

Heather blinked and Skye splattered cake mix on the wall in shock. "What?" Both witches asked at the same time.

Blaise merely handed the letter to Heather and went off to his room to begin packing as Skye hastily wiped cake mix from the wall.

Heather glanced down at the parchment in hers hands, written in Draco's tall, spidery handwriting.

_Zabini (and Rambinski),_

_I'm writing to you on Christmas Day. I'm afraid something had come up, concerning Weasley. While I cannot tell you exactly what had happened, sufficed to say it is overwhelming and unbelievable. And in no good way, I'm afraid. Prepare yourselves for shock when you come back. I hope it will be soon, or else you may find out about this sordid little affair in a most unpleasant way. I would prefer if I (or someone else close to you) told you what had happened but it all depends on when you get back. If, by chance, you cannot make it back to school before the holidays are out, keep your eyes and ears open for news from the wizarding world regarding the Weasley girl and myself. Until then, take care of yourselves, _

_Malfoy._

Heather shoved the letter into Skye's expecting hands and rushed after Blaise. She pushed the door to his room open. His trunk was on the bed and he was carefully folding his clothes and packing them into his leather-bound trunk.

"Blaise?" Heather asked hesitantly, entering the room.

He glanced up as she came closer to him. "What are you doing? She asked softly.

"Packing." He said simply, continuing to place things in his trunk.

"Blaise, please. Be reasonable; how would we get there, when would we be able to leave, and why would we leave in the first place?"

He shook his head, finished with his packing, and sat down on the bed. "Listen, I know this has been great fun and all, but Skye's been talking about having to get back to Hogwarts, and Janet was thinking of going with her for a while, and staying at Hogsemeade anyway, so…if there is something wrong at Hogwarts with Draco and Ginny, why not just go on ahead?"

Heather cocked her head to the side. "Really? But when are we leaving?"

"Now."

"How? How are we going to get there?" Heather asked, now sitting down on the bed next to Blaise.

"I have money. We'll go by train. There's a train leaving this afternoon. We can be back to Hogwarts by tonight."

Heather bit her lip, her head tilted to the side. Blaise's harsh expression softened.

"D'you think Ginny's alright?"

Blaise smiled, wrapping an arm around the tiny girl's shoulders. "I'm sure she's fine. Draco would have said something otherwise, right?"

Heather gave him a weak smile. "Right."

"Come on; let's go get you packed."

Draco woke up under the strange impression that he hadn't actually ever fallen asleep. The last thing he remembered, right before falling asleep (or whatever he'd done) was a voice. A soft voice; a voice he knew. It was Ginny's voice_. "I do love you Draco Malfoy."_

Draco mustered the will to open his eyes. His dreams were so lovely. Full of 'happily ever afters' and visions of a life possible only in dreams; a life with Ginny, away from his father, and Voldemort, away from everyone else. Just Ginny. That was all he needed.

He opened his eyes, and for a second, could fool himself into believing that he was living his dreams. Ginny was asleep, lying half next to him, apparently sitting in a chair beside his bed. He looked down. Their hands lay clasped between them, her head against his arm.

He glanced around. He was in the hospital wing, he remembered. Meaning today was…Boxing Day. He looked over at Ginny again. She had stayed with him. All night, too; the sun was breaking through the tall windows in the hospital wing.

He took the moment to just watch her, to be able to actually look at her without her asking what he was looking at.

Looking down at her, he realized just how striking she was. Not gorgeous or beautiful, but actually quite pretty, in her own arresting way. She would never be a great beauty, at least not to anyone besides him, but she was remarkable.

Her eyes were closed, which was a pity, because they were so captivating; large with so much emotion and life. But even asleep, without her most impressive features visible, she was still so…amazing. Her nose was a little longer than most people's; it seemed to be a Weasley trait, most likely from her father. Draco grimaced, and the action surprised him. He hadn't exactly come to terms with everything that came along with Ginny, but still, he was shocked at how venomous his feelings were towards a man he'd never really met. He'd caught himself doing it before, thinking about her mother, the dumpy old cow that she was. Again, he couldn't believe what he was thinking.

He glanced down at her again as her lips parted in sleep. Those lips had to be her mothers; there was no way Arnold, or Arthur, whatever – Weasley had those lips. They were too full and…feminine. And her hair. That seemed to come from both parents, but it just didn't look the same on them. Everything about her suited, better than it could on anyone else.

He loved how it was dark, dark red at the roots, and gradually became lighter as it grew out, coming to a soft, feathery orange-red at the tips. It was somewhat like his own hair; at the roots his hair was rather dark, but it quickly became very, very light. Almost ethereally light. That came from his parents, as Ginny's did from hers. Both his parents had light, light hair. He hated how much he was like his parents.

He didn't want Ginny to think of his as his father, who he deeply resembled. He wanted her to think of him as a separate person.

Unconsciously he reached out and smoothed back her hair.

Those big brown eyes opened. Draco could only stare. He'd never seen her just as she woke, and consequently, had never seen her look so close to beautiful. Her eyes were astoundingly soft, a mixture of cocoa and specks of amber. Her eyelashes settled low, leaving little of her eyes to be seen, heavy with sleep.

"Draco?" she yawned, sitting up and stretching. "You awake?" she asked sleepily, rubbing at her eyes. Somehow, he managed to nod dumbly. Ginny, though half-asleep, caught his look. "What?" she asked suspiciously.

"What? Oh…uh…nothing." Draco managed. Ginny shot him an amused glance, stretching her arms above her head wearily. Draco heard her back crack.

"Ow." Ginny muttered unfeelingly. She tilted her head to the side, her neck cracking several times. "Ow." She said again. "Remind me never to do that again."

Draco snapped up, realizing that she was talking. "What?"

Ginny turned her head the other way. Crack. Crack. Crack.

"Fall asleep in that position. Damned uncomfortable." She murmured, yawning sleepily. "So, how are you feeling?" She moaned, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Fine." Draco said, and it was true. He felt great. His headache was gone, and so was the dull pain in his neck he hadn't noticed until it was gone.

"Good." Ginny yawned again. "Because I have to get back to Gryffindor soon; my brother will kill me for not coming back last night. Actually," she tilted her head to the side, cracking it again "-ow-, he'll probably kill me for leaving in the first place. And if he finds out I was with you…" she winced. "…there probably won't be enough pieces of me left for you to mourn over." She grinned.

Draco smiled down at her.

Ginny froze, her mouth opening in shock. That was it! That was the look she'd been waiting for! The loving one. She blinked several times in succession, making sure she was seeing it right. It was there, alright, she could see it in his eyes, glittering in their silvery depths. It was still behind a wall of protection, but she could see it; that wall was deteriorating. She was tearing it apart.

It was Draco's turn to arch an eyebrow. "What did I do now?" he groaned.

Ginny blinked several times again. "Nothing. Nothing, I…er…" she searched for something, her face flushing.

Draco cupped her chin with his finger, tilting it up to face him.

"What?" He demanded.

Ginny couldn't believe that she could still see that look. It was for her, that look was. For her and only her.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Draco's. She felt his surprise, but it lasted for only a second. He quickly tightened his arms around her neck, pulling her closer.

It was much like their first really passionate kiss out in the snow not too long ago. Fiery and searing with heat and fervor. Ginny sighed, the breath tracing his tongue and lips.

With much effort, Draco pulled away. Staring down at Ginny, half-lidded and beautiful in his eyes, he arched an eyebrow. "What is this for?" he asked, pressing his lips to the corner of her eye. Those large brown eye closed dreamily as he kissed her other eye.

"You. You care for me." She said, with the air of someone discovering something unbelievable.

Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes, smiling. "No, really? Brilliant observation, Miss Weasley, and do tell me: when did you reach this astonishing conclusion?"

Ginny smiled up at him, opening her eyes again. "Just now. So I'm a little slow on the uptake." She shrugged. "Hey, I found out didn't I?"

Draco leaned in closer. "Yes you did." He whispered before covering her mouth with his again.

Ginny was rather detained in getting back to Gryffindor after that. She glided through the portrait hole as if in a dream, a ridiculously sappy smile on her face.

Though it wasn't there for long. Before she could even reach the stairs that led up to the girl's dormitories, someone stomped in front of her. She nearly ran straight into the person, who was tall, with red-hair, freckles, and her family's eyes, which right now were glaring viciously at her.

"Ginevra Teresa Weasley!" Ron hissed, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her off to an armchair by the fire. Harry was already sitting in an armchair, slumped back, looking tired and weary. Hermione was pacing back and forth in front of the fire, her cheeks bright with contained fury.

Ginny plopped down in the chair Ron had oh-so-delicately deposited her in. She glared up at him, too tired to actually try to get up again. "Don't use my full name, Ron. Only mum does that, and while I respect you as my older and supposedly wiser brother, I am not going to sit here and listen to you berate me, and use my full name in that chastising tone; as if I was some toddler who doesn't know any better. Perhaps you could have gotten away with doing it in my first year, but I'm sixteen now Ron…seventeen in about a month; I can take care of myself." She breathed heavily, still glaring darkly at her stunned brother.

Ron's jaw had dropped, Harry had lifted his head to stare back and forth between the arguing siblings, and Hermione had stopped pacing, a look between triumphant satisfaction and upset despondency flickering to and fro through her eyes with the twisting shadows the fire cast on her face.

"Look at this, Ginny. We never used to fight. Look at what just being around _him_ has done to you." Ron pleaded, trying to take her hand.

Ginny moved back into the chair, giving him a look of utter disbelief. "This has nothing to do with Draco, Ron. This is about you. Don't you dare try to hand off the blame to Draco when all he's done is opened my eyes. The only reason you and I never used to fight was because I was always the obedient little girl who did what everyone told her to. I never gave you any grief or trouble. I've grown up, Ron. That's all there is to it. You would have known that if you bothered to pay any attention to me. Aside from when I start seeing someone you don't like, that is. And just so you don't go running off to go try and kill Draco, I grew up long before I started seeing him, so he has nothing to do with my change. I'm sorry, Ron. Really. But I'm not going to let you push me around any more. I love you. I always will; you're my big brother. But you've got to learn to respect me as an equal person, not like a little girl." She smiled weakly at him.

Ron's jaw had dropped even lower. The silence over the common room grew heavier. Hermione finally stepped forward, laying a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"She has a point, Ron." She said softly.

She turned to Ginny as Ron tensed. "And so does he, Gin. You know that Ron does care about you, and it's because he cares about you that he worries about you with Malfoy."

She turned back to Ron, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. "Ron, I know you're worried that Malfoy might hurt Ginny; he's not been exactly the greatest person, but Ginny is quite a bit older now. Just trust her decision." She said in her usual informative voice.

Ron stood suddenly, yanking out of Hermione's reach. The Head Girl drew back her hand, startled. Harry stood, glancing between Ron and Hermione anxiously. Ginny seemed to be temporarily forgotten.

"This is none of your concern, Hermione. She's my sister, and I don't want her near that rotten piece of filth." Ron growled, shooting Ginny a murderous look.

Hermione frowned, lowering her hand. "I know that Ron, and I'm not trying to intrude in family matters, but I don't want to see the two of you fighting because you don't understand each other's view point." She beseeched.

Ron shook his head, ready to explode.

Harry stepped forward, between Ron and Hermione, who were shooting daggers at each other. "Hermione, maybe we should leave Ginny and Ron to themselves for a while." Harry suggested, putting a hand to Ron's chest.

Hermione gave Ron one last look before sighing in aggravation, whirling out of the common room in a storm of rage. Harry leaned in and whispered something to Ron before following Hermione's path.

Ron turned to Ginny. "I know you're older and more responsible now, but I don't want you getting mixed up with the likes of Malfoy. I don't trust him." His face contorted in anger and disgust.

Ginny stood from her chair and walked over to her brother's rigid form, putting a hand on his arm. "You don't know him, Ron." She said softly. "I didn't like him any more than you did. But then I learned more about him; spent more time with him…he treats me better than anyone I've ever been with. Just, please believe me, Ron." Ginny begged, hating how weak she sounded. _Like the little girl he thinks I am…_she thought to herself.

Ron bit his lip. "Gin, I just don't want to see you hurt." He sighed, looking away into the fire. "I never told you this, but I felt so responsible for what Dean did." Ginny's eyes widened and her grasp on Ron's arm grew tighter. "Yeah, I found out about it from Heather, but she made me swear not to do anything or say anything to anyone, especially you." He sighed, and pain flashed through his eyes. "See, I gave Dean to go-ahead on that; he was interested in you and I thought he would treat you well…but I was wrong. And I've never forgiven myself for that; if Heather hadn't come…" he shivered, turning away.

Ginny smiled. "Ron, Draco isn't like that. Our rapport is based on more than just a quick shag. We're not…um, shall we say…sexually active?" Ron flushed, looking down at his foot. Ginny grinned. "He wants to be…" Ron stiffened, fists clenching "…but he respects that I don't. Not yet." Ron calmed down significantly, unclenching his fists.

"Gin…you're my little sister; my only sister. You're the only one I feel like I can take care of, so you'll just have to get used to me trying to 'baby sister' you. But, I _suppose_, if you absolutely must…I can give this thing a try. But a word of warning…" he pointed a finger warningly at her "…he does one thing to hurt you; looks at you wrong; or says anything bad about you I'll rip his ball-er, head off before you can even give me an argument." He cautioned.

Ginny's smile practically split her face in half. She rushed forward, wrapping Ron in a huge hug. "Oh, Ron!" she gushed, embarrassing the hell out of him and enjoying every second of it. Several sixth and seventh year boys who had stayed home for the holidays looked up from a corner where they were playing wizard's chess and laughed, pointing.

Ron's face and ears went red as he tried to disentangle himself from his sister's embrace. "Gin! Geroff!" he muttered, prying her arms off him. Ginny stepped back and laughed. "Fine. But thank you." She said, sobering. "I really appreciate it." She gave him an awkward pat on the arm as the boys in the corner jeered at Ron, making his face go an even darker shade of scarlet.

"Oy, big brother Ronnie! Can I have a hug too? I think there's a spider under my bed. Make it go away!" Seamus Finnegan teased, laughing harder.

Ginny sat back down in her chair, and pulled out her wand. Lovely thing: ebony and unicorn hair, 8 ½ inches. She twirled it around her fingers experimentally and pointed it behind her, muttering something low and inaudible.

"Oy!" Seamus yelled as a couple of the chess pieces flew up off the table and pelted him and the other boys mercilessly. Ginny chuckled to herself for several seconds listening to their vehement cursing, not even bothering to turn and watch, before waving her wand and murmuring the counter-spell. The chess pieces fell to the ground, clattering noisily.

"Oy, Ron, was that you?" She heard Seamus shout.

Ron glanced at Ginny, fighting to hide a grin, and shook his head innocently. "I don't even have my wand out." He shrugged, tossing Ginny a meaningful look. "But I think Ginny does."

Ginny scowled at Ron, barely hiding a grin as she hastily shoved her wand down her robes and stood. She turned to face the boys, all of who were rubbing various points of pain. Placing her hands on her hips, she rolled her eyes in a perfect imitation of a slightly annoyed Molly Weasley.

"Honestly! Would I do something like that? Of course not." She said quickly before anyone could answer. "Go ahead, search me for a wand if you like, you won't find one; it's upstairs waiting to be polished. Still, check my pockets if you like." She said flawlessly, holding out her arms.

None of the other boys moved. It was a trick Ginny had learned from Fred and George; reverse psychology or something along those lines. Ginny had taken a recent and deep interest in Muggle science: psychological, forensic, and the basic mentality of humans. The twins had also gotten interested and used it on Mrs. Weasley; making her seem like the wrong one and then saunter off looking affronted. Worked almost every time.

Worked this time too. Ginny glanced around in front of her, almost looking like she was reprimanding them. "No? Well, first wise decision any of you have made. Now, I'm afraid I have to go upstairs and polish my wand. 'Night all." She said cheerfully, turning to give Ron another huge hug.

"Scares me sometimes, how well you lie." Ron whispered into her hair, before shoving her away and ushering her up the stairs.

As she began to ascend the stairs up to her room, she turned slightly back to the boys, who were grumbling. "And by the way…Ron's wand is visibly sticking out of his back pocket." She grinned as Ron glared darkly at her and the other boys advanced on him with pillows, candy, and other none-too-painful projectiles.

Laughing, she walked up the rest of the stairs to the sound of a grand fight.

She entered her room and smiled: she was all alone this holiday. She loved having the room to herself; the girls who shared her room were nice and all, but rather…well…girly. Remarkably girly. For once, she wouldn't fall asleep to gossip and talk of boys, shopping, and clothes.

Ginny flopped down on her bed exhaustedly. Reaching under her pillow, Ginny pulled out a book. It was a Muggle book she'd picked up in Flourish and Blotts, where it had been accidentally ordered, and therefore marked half-price. It was actually quite interesting, if macabre. It was on famous killers of the century, and Ginny was careful not to let anyone see it; they already thought she was strange enough without them seeing her feverishly reading a book on murderers.

Within a few moments, she was asleep, her book lying open on her chest.

Heather was staring intently out the window of the carriage that was delivering her, Blaise, and Skye to Hogwarts from the train station into the darkness. They had parted with Janet back at the station, and Blaise's cousin had gone on to Hogsmeade where she would be staying for a few weeks.

Heather poked Blaise, who had begun dozing off, in the ribs. He sat up with a jolt. "Ow, what was that for?" he muttered, rubbing his side.

"We're nearly there." Heather said softly. During the whole train ride, she had been a nervous wreck, biting at her nails and lips. She was practically vibrating with anxiety, and Blaise's arm was aching from rubbing her back soothingly so much.

He did so now, much to the angry protests of his triceps. Heather leaned into him, her mind full.

The carriage arrived promptly at the entrance to the school. Dumbledore was standing at the entrance, waiting for them; Skye had owled him of their early arrival from the holidays. As Blaise and Heather stepped from the carriage, Skye strode toward Dumbledore, taking him aside to say a few brief, whispered words. Heather and Blaise took down their baggage and stood at the foot of the stone steps, waiting impatiently.

After a few moments, Dumbledore turned to the two teens. "You may head up to your respective dormitories now, if you wish." He said, gesturing up the stairs. "Your luggage will be brought up to your common rooms shortly." He gave them both a half-smile before turning back around to speak with Skye again.

Heather went up the stairs, Blaise right behind her. They walked in silence until they reached the point where they would have to go separate ways to get to the Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms.

Heather faced Blaise, and sighed, the breath stirring a strand of hair that had fallen over her eye. "Well, I suppose this is where we part." She sighed again.

Blaise reached down and stroked her hair, his hand coming down to caress her cheek. She leaned into his hand. "Don't worry; I'm sure Ginny's fine. You'll see her in a few minutes." He assured her, hand coming down to clasp hers.

Heather smiled weakly up at Blaise. "You're right. I just…"she sighed "Well, tell Draco I said 'hello' for me, yeah?"

Blaise nodded. "Right, and you tell Ginny I said to take care of herself; whatever she's been up to had gotten Draco worried, and that's pretty hard to do, trust me."

Heather smiled and reached up to kiss him goodbye. Their kisses now marked a stage of their relationship. Whereas at first their kisses were more or less animal/ teen desire, their kisses now were lacking in that fiery passion. Now their kisses were soft, and gentle; full of so much meaning with so many tender emotions. It marked a new level of their connection; instead of lust and want, their kisses showed love and care.

Not that the occasional heated kiss wasn't present…

They broke apart after a few moments. Blaise turned as he walked off, and backed away, waving goodbye to her. Heather smiled; that soft, satisfied smile of a girl hopelessly and completely in love. That smile lasted all the way to Gryffindor common room.

"Heather!"

Heather glanced up, startled. She was halfway through the portrait hole on her way inside. Hermione was running toward her from an empty corridor, her robes billowing out behind her as she awkwardly slung her bag over her shoulder, trying to keep it from falling off as she hurried up to where Heather was standing, half-frozen.

As the Head Girl finally reached her, Heather arched an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Hermione took a breath; her face was a little pink from her excursion. "What are you doing here? Not to be crude or anything, but I thought you were staying in France for the holidays? Ginny said you were…with Zabini." She managed to hide her distaste quite well; had it been Ron or Harry in her spot, they would have both either sneered or spat the name. Hermione was (if a know-it-all), more understanding.

Heather nodded. "I was…but something came up. Draco owled us…said something happened concerning Ginny. What happened? Is Ginny alright?" Fear edged into Heather's voice, and her hands unconsciously clenched.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, she's fine now. I suppose Malfoy owled you on Christmas?"

Heather nodded. "We…Blaise and I…got the letter this morning. We left as soon as we could. What happened to Ginny?"

Hermione frowned. "Let's go inside, shall we? I'll tell you once we can sit down; no doubt you're tired." Heather followed the older girl into the common room gratefully, sinking into the nearest armchair across from Hermione.

The bushy-haired Head Girl sighed. "Well, apparently…from what I've heard…Ginny flew out to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. I don't know entirely why, but the fact that Malfoy followed her out there, and that she usually only flies off when she's upset…well, it doesn't take a lot of brainpower to see that they had a little lover's quarrel." Hermione's grin faltered. "Whatever the case, Ginny was attacked by a wolf. Draco got there in time to bring her back to Madame Pomfrey." Hermione said shortly. She didn't like putting too much thought into it; it still gave her the shivers.

Heather sat straight up. "But she's fine…right? Is she still in the hospital wing, or is she upstairs?" Hermione nodded to the stairs, and without another word, Heather was off, taking the stairs two at a time.

She burst into the girls sixth years' dormitory, glancing around, much as she had two years ago when she'd seen Dean sneak up the girls' staircase after Ginny. This time, however, there was no hormonal guy in the room. In fact the room was empty, though Ginny's curtains were pulled around her bed. Heather crept over to the girl's bed and pulled back the hanging cloth a little.

Ginny was deep asleep with a book open on her stomach. Heather sighed and reached down to smooth the hair on Ginny's forehead. The slender red-head stirred slightly in her sleep. Heather glanced down, noting the bandaging around her forearm and shoulder. She stared darkly at the wound indications.

Standing, she gave Ginny one last look before exiting the room.

For now, she would let her sleep. For now, she would give her peace. But tomorrow, serious explanations would be in order.


	17. The Blessings of Molly and Arthur Weasle...

**Author's Note: **Wow. My oh my oh my. My thanks goes out to the people who read and reviewed my story. I feel o loved, and yet so unworthy! But this chapter is up for **gipsy (zephyr3myway,com)** whose praise so strengthened my ego that I managed to finish this chapter today. Thank you very much, gipsy, your review was very helpful. Also, to **Forensic Photographer711**, I do realize that werewolves only come out at a full moon: the thing that attacked Ginny was a regular wolf. She just freaked out and let her mind run away with her. What would you do if a giant werewolf-like thing jumped out at you? Aside from wonder that there are such things as werewolves, of course. Thank you for your reviews, they were all quite obliging. Thanks, and back to chapter 18! Read and ejoy!

**Disclaimer:** Same as last 17 chapters.

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 17: The Blessings of Molly and Arthur Weasley**

**

* * *

**

Later that night, on the evening of Boxing Day, Blaise entered his common room; at about the same time Heather was entering hers. Blaise's reception was quite a bit colder, however. The only people left in the common room were Crabbe, Goyle, a fifth year named Everett Grubble and two sixth year girls in the corner who were giggling madly and passing looks between themselves and Crabbe and Goyle.

The only acknowledgement he received was for one or two people to lift their heads and glance at him, take in who he was, and go back to whatever they were doing.

Scoffing to himself and ignoring them as much as they were ignoring him, Blaise waded through the discarded Christmas presents from the day before and ascended the stairs that led to his room; which he shared with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.

As he opened the door, he glanced around the room. He already knew it would be almost or completely empty; Crabbe and Goyle were downstairs messing around with the two girls in the corner, meaning that Draco would be the only person in the room.

Sure enough, the pale, blonde Slytherin was lying on his bed, staring petulantly up at the ceiling, his fine, near-aristocratic features marred by the drawn frown on his face.

Blaise paced over to Draco's bed. Not too quietly, either, as the silver-headed boy sat up, looking startled. He saw Blaise, and his face went through a rather interesting sequence of emotions. From the morose stare he'd fixed the ceiling with, it changed to surprise, realization, anger, misery, irritation, and finally, acceptance.

"Hullo, Blaise." Draco muttered, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Good to see you…though I honestly wasn't expecting you."

Blaise scowled lightly, settling himself down on his own bed near Draco's. "Dunno why, since you should have been. You owled me and Heather…said you had to tell us something shocking, in the not-too-nice way, about Ginny. Now what?"

Draco winced, although he was feeling slightly better that he hadn't written in his letter that Ginny was dead. That wouldn't have borne too well. "Erm…well…yes. Er…you see…" He sighed, putting his head in his hands. "Christmas morning I woke up a happy man. I had a girl who cared for me, presents for the first time in ages, and a content feeling in me. It was sheer bliss." That frowning scowl crossed his face again. "And then I went downstairs. From there, things just got worse and worse. I heard St. Potter and Weasley talking. Weasley was thanking Potter for taking pity on his little sister by promising to take her to the dance after Christmas break is over."

He grimaced again. "It made me sick. I wanted to beat both their heads in. I talked to the Granger girl, though. She was on my side on this one." Draco shook his head in amazement. "She couldn't find Ginny, and I had to talk to her, to ask her why. So I just came up here. Thing is, so did she, just a few minutes later. I was still angry at her, and there she was, smiling at me like nothing had changed; like she still liked me." He clasped his hands together as they began to shake.

"I-I just lost it. You know? I can't stand thinking about her with someone else, especially Potter. I just…lost control." He sounded so guilty, so helpless, that Blaise was up in an instant, towering over Draco as he sat on the bed.

Blaise knew far too much about Draco's short temper. He was prone to aggravation and fights caused from his lack of control. Is something really pissed Draco off, there wasn't a lot anyone could do to calm him down.

But what had he done to Ginny to feel so sorry about?

Blaise stooped down to look Draco in the face, his hands on his knees. "What did you do? I'm asking you, Draco Malfoy…what did you do to Ginevra Weasley? Did you hurt her?"

The look of pure agony that flitted across Draco's face was all the answer Blaise needed. He straightened up angrily. "How? How could you hit her? You love her, Draco!" he protested.

Draco groaned, placing his head in his hands again. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think my heart nearly broke when I saw the look on her face? She was more than scared, Blaise…she was terrified. And I was so mad that I didn't see it until I nearly hit her."

"Wait…" Blaise cut him off. "…you didn't hit her?"

Draco stood suddenly, nearly ramming into Blaise, who wisely stepped back. Draco began to pace back and forth across the room. "I might as well have hit her…either way, I hurt her. She flew off…scared of me."

He turned to Blaise, such a torn and bewildered, almost frightened look on his face that Blaise made as if to pat his back, but thought better of it. "Do you know what it's like? What it's like to see the only person you love- that you'll ever love- run away from you afraid for their life? It's one of the worst things I've had to deal with. I don't expect you know what it feels like, and I hope you never have to." He shook his head.

"I just felt horrible…so I went to look for her." He laughed. A cold, sarcastic, mirthless laugh. "From there on, both of our days got worse."

He told Blaise the whole story. From finding Ginny bleeding in the snow…to taking her to Madame Pomfrey…to leaving, only to find out (or so he thought) that Ginny was dead…to trying to hang himself…to being saved at the last minute by a ghost of a girl…to the present time, where he was sitting talking to Blaise.

"And now here I am, finishing up my horror tale for you and waiting for tomorrow, so I can see her again." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I never did find out why Weasley thought Potter was going to the dance with Ginny." He shook his head, as if to clear it.

Blaise's head was reeling with this new overload of information. Strangely enough, of all the questions buzzing around in his head like confused owls at morning post time, there was only one that managed to make itself present for asking.

"Are you daft?"

Draco glanced up at Blaise, who was looking at him as if he was insane. Well, perhaps he was, but that wasn't really important right now.

"Maybe." Draco considered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Great, that clears a few things up." Blaise muttered, sinking back down on his bed again as Draco did the same across from him.

Draco shook his head. "She's nutters, I swear. Forgiving me after what I put her through? She's got serious mental issues."

Blaise also shook his head. "I'm just glad that (even though you were crazy at the time) you managed to use your thick head enough to realize that you shouldn't have told us she was dead by owl. Smart. You should have seen Heather. She was frantic with worry, and that was just when she thought something was wrong." He shook his head too, collapsing completely on the bed.

"Our girlfriends will be the death of us." Draco muttered, crawling under his blankets and preparing for sleep.

Blaise stood, and grabbed a set of night clothes, pulling his day clothes off and tugging the pajamas on. "Yeah, but we can't live without them." He murmured sleepily, flopping on his bed and yanking the covers over his head.

"'night Draco." His muffled voice stretched from under the covers to his friend's ear.

Draco grinned. "'night Blaise." He returned, smiling even wider because he had so much more than he'd ever thought possible. So he didn't have everything he wanted. So what? He had a girl who loved him, and a new group of friends that made him feel at home. Not like the home he was used to, but like a home he'd heard of. The warm, welcoming type of home filled with love and care. The kind of home Ginny was raised in.

Sighing, Draco turned over on his side. None of that mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was Ginny, and he had the rest of the holidays to be with her.

The next morning, Ginny woke feeling groggy and tired. Understanding, since she'd nearly been mauled to death two days earlier. It would have been absolutely wrong for her to wake up feeling like daisies in the spring.

"Urgh." Ginny groaned, rolling over on her side, trying to go back to sleep. It was no use; she was awake now, and her aching stomach was growling at her, vying for attention and sustenance.

Grumbling along with her stomach, Ginny sat up and more or less fell out of bed. Okay, so it was a very fanciful roll off the mattress. Either way, she ended up on the floor, wishing she'd never woken up.

"What a headache." She muttered, holding a hand to her forehead. Indeed, her head was pounding painfully as it tends to do when you wake up and start moving around too fast.

She looked over and rummaged around in her drawer, until she found the vial of Pepper-Upper Madame Pomfrey had given her. She felt quite a bit better, and the potion wouldn't even kick in for a few moments.

Making a growling sound, she rolled over and stood, swaying slightly. "Woo. Okay, there we go." She murmured to herself, squeezing her eyes shut and holding onto one of the four posts on her bed for support.

"Having trouble?"

Ginny's eyes shot open. Heather?

She looked up, and there, in front of her, was her tiny little dark-haired friend. "Heather?" Ginny breathed, a grin breaking out on her face that was mirrored in Heather's own. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in France? I-" she leaned down to hug her friend.

"Why did you come back? I mean, you have no idea how glad I am that you did, but…I thought you were staying until the holidays were back…did something happen?" She cocked her head.

Heather shook her head relief flooding through her.

"No, we're fine, but we were afraid you weren't for a while." Ginny sat back down on her bed and motioned for her to do the same. Sitting, Heather continued. "Draco sent us a letter saying something had happened. To you. Scared the living hell out of me. Blaise and I came straight back." She sighed, giving Ginny a look over.

"You've no idea how glad I am to see you're alright. I got back last night, but you were already asleep. Hermione told me what happened." Her gaze suddenly went harsh. "What the hell were you doing in the Forbidden Forest? You were nearly killed. What were you thinking?" She scolded. Ginny lowered her head, cheeks flushing.

"I wasn't. I was just scared and hurt and I didn't want to deal with Ron and the others asking me about what happened. There was bound to be people on the pitch, so I just kept flying farther and farther away. I just wanted to get away, that's all." She mumbled.

Heather found she could no longer keep the disappointed frown on her face. She reached over and rubbed Ginny's back comfortingly. "Just don't ever do anything like that again." She warned softly.

Ginny grinned wryly, rubbing her aching shoulder, still wrapped in bandages. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning on it." Her stomach rumbled. "Oooh. Please tell me you're hungry, Heather." Ginny pleaded, moving her hand to rub her stomach.

Heather laughed as they stood. "Breakfast sounds good to me."

It wasn't the sun shining through the window that woke Draco. Nor was it the constant and monotonous chant of 'wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up' coming from the bed next to him, supposedly from Blaise. It might have been the small, hard bits of something that were showering him; again, presumably coming from Blaise. But it was probably the image of Ginny that flashed through his subconscious mind that finally made him open his eyes and sit up.

Blaise glanced up from where he was lying on his side, still in his pajamas. He picked out a white bean from a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and casually flicked it at Draco, hitting him square on the nose. Looking down, Draco saw that his pillow and bed-sheets was dotted with several beans of other flavors.

"Morning." Blaise said, tossing a green-colored bean at Draco, this time hitting his forehead.

Draco picked up the bean where it had fallen on his bed-sheet and hurled it back at Blaise, smacking him on the head. Hard. "Ow." Blaise grumbled, rubbing his head.

Draco sat up completely, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He yawned a few times and stood, stretching lazily. As he stretched his arms over his head, his stomach growled loudly. Blaise lifted his had again, this time to arch an eyebrow.

"Have you eaten lately?" He asked, amused.

"Define lately." Draco countered.

"As in the last decade or so." Blaise rolled his eyes as Draco pretended to ponder. "Well, let's see…I definitely recall eating something…no, wait…well there was that time when I was seven…no. Okay, so perhaps I haven't eaten lately." He added as his stomach rumbled again.

Blaise rolled his eyes again, and poked his own stomach tentatively. "You know, I'm kind of hungry as well. Why don't we go grab some food from the Great Hall and bring it back here."

"But…I wanted to see Ginny."

Blaise thought about that for a moment. "Heather was worried sick last night, and I don't think they'd have enough time to talk. You know how girls are. Besides, you can see her later today. C'mon, I wanted to go flying."

Draco's grey eyes widened. "Are you insane, it's freezing cold outside! It's snowing."

Blaise shook his head and strode over to the window. "Actually, it stopped snowing this morning. And it's not too cold out. Just wear a thick jacket or something."

Draco grinned. He _had_ been wanting to go flying for a while. "Deal, now let's go, I'm starving!"

After changing into real clothes, Heather and Ginny allowed Ginny's stomach to lead them downstairs to the Great Hall. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were all there, talking and laughing. Ginny caught Ron's eye and gave him a quick smile. He grinned back at her, waved, and turned back to talk animatedly with Hermione. Harry was just looking on, extremely amused.

Ginny smiled. She was overall, quite pleased with how things had turned out. She didn't want to cause any problems between Ron and his two best friends, but she wasn't going to let him rule her life anymore, either.

She and Heather took their seats across from Seamus, Neville, and Dean. Ginny shifted uncomfortably, but smiled at them nonetheless. Heather glared darkly at Dean, who quailed under her look.

Seamus grinned, his good-natured face widening. "So, Ginny. After we um…talked…t' yer brother, we realized tha' he hadn' hit us with those chess pieces. Which means…" He grinned evilly, standing and coming round to their side of the table, while Ginny stood, grinning guiltily and backing away from the Irish-tongued boy she'd dated for a while.

"Which means…" Seamus started again. "...that it was someone else." He smirked at her as she backed away; him stealthily following her. "Any idea 'oo that migh' have been?"

Ginny put on her best innocent face and shrugged her shoulders. "No idea." She said sweetly, her voice like honey. Heather snorted from the table. "I don't even believe you, Gin." She laughed as Ginny glared darkly at her.

Seamus laughed as well, still advancing on her.

Heather grinned wider. "I'd run for it if I were you."

"That would be my best bet." Ron, several seats over, quipped.

Ginny glared at both of them, and turned to Seamus with an I'm-too-dignified-to-run-all-over-the-place-like-a-child look. Right before she whirled around and bolted. Stunned, it took Seamus a second to follow, sprinting after her.

Ron, Harry, Hermione, Heather, and Neville all shared a glance before hopping up and chasing after them. No one wanted to miss out on the fun.

Meanwhile, Ginny was running for her life, trying not to laugh. She'd forgotten how much fun Gryffindors could be. When she'd dated Seamus for a while, it had been all fun and games. It felt great to be back to doing that again. After the events of the past few days, she needed some light fun.

She was running so fast that when Blaise and Draco rounded the corner just ahead of her, she didn't have time to stop. She ran right into Draco, nearly knocking him over. Blaise, behind them, pushed Draco forward, so he didn't fall.

Winded, he glanced down at the girl in his arms. "Ginny!" he said, surprised. "What are you running from?" he asked, as she struggled to disentangle herself from him, throwing a look over her shoulder. Footsteps were pounding far off, but they were getting closer and closer.

"Um…Seamus and I had a slight disagreement. He says I bewitched his chess pieces to hit him, and I say I bewitched his chess pieces to hit him and his friends." She quirked, grinning up at him. "And now I'm trying to get away from him before he catches me to…shall we say…extract his revenge?' she smiled again, pushing back from Draco, and glancing around. To her left, was the door to the entrance of the school.

"Um…I'd love to chat and all, but right now, I've got a mob of angry boys to avoid." Blowing him a dramatic kiss, she hurried off, slipping through the large doors.

Draco and Blaise shared a confused look. Seconds later Seamus, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville, Dean, Colin, and a couple other Gryffindors he didn't recognize came hurrying down the hallway.

They stopped when they saw Draco and Blaise. "'Scuse us, Malfoy." Seamus said, his gaze growing dark. Several of the others were giving him the same look. Ron and Harry were remaining blissfully objective, and Hermione bit her lip, before letting a grin slip across it.

She stepped forward. "Hullo, Draco. How are you?" she asked, startling everyone but Ron, Heather, and Harry, who knew why she was being nice to Draco.

He grinned at the amazed expressions that crossed the faces of the other Gryffindors. "Fine, fine. And you, Hermione?" It felt so weird to say her first name, as if they were friends.

The Head Girl grinned. "Great." She turned to the others, giving them a reassuring smile. "Might I introduce the person who found Ginny and brought her back?" She gestured to Draco, who bowed insolently.

The others' looked even more amazed, and Neville's jaw dropped.

Giving them one last meaningful look, Hermione turned back to Draco. "Actually, we seemed to have misplaced our little red-headed friend. Would you like to join our little search party? Or have you seen her?" she asked.

Draco grinned. She was more or less asking him to be part of their little group. Several of the Gryffindors gave Hermione a look that questioned her sanity, and left. Seamus, Neville, and Colin (all of which had been pegged by Ginny's chess pieces) stayed, as well as Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Heather of course.

Draco arched an eyebrow at Seamus, who Colin and Neville were staring at, as if waiting for him to make a decision. Finally, Seamus stuck out his hand. Draco took it, startled.

Dropping the pale Slytherin's hand, Seamus stared at him briefly. "Ginny's a good friend of mine. A really good friend. We wen' out for a while, but decided we just weren' righ' for each other. But since then, we've been great friends. I don' necessarily like you, but I don' like to think about what could have happened to 'er if you hadn' found 'er even more." He shrugged, the mischievous smile returning to his face.

"As of now, I 'ave to 'ave a little 'chat' wit' the dear lass." He grinned. "Yer welcome t' come wit' us, if you like."

Draco turned to Blaise, who grinned. "I'm going to go get some breakfast. Want me to bring you something?" Draco nodded, his grin catching as Blaise strode off. He turned back to the somewhat smaller group of Gryffindors. "I seem to recall a certain red-headed someone running past me on her way out the door…" he glanced innocently up at the ceiling, before heading out the door.

Hermione and Seamus exchanged a glance and a grin, before following Draco outside with the others. They all laughed when they got outside and took a good look at the scene before them. Draco was standing on the path, just beyond the steps. His arms were wrapped around Ginny, who was struggling and muttering oaths at him.

"Traitor." She hissed, reaching behind her to pinch Draco's side.

Seamus reached down into the snow that had fallen the night before.

"Oy, Ginny. I think a little payback's in order, don' you?"

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but was cut short by the snowball that was suddenly in it. She wriggled out of Draco's grasp and knelt down to get her own ball of snow. "Oh, you're in for it now!" She said, throwing the handful of snow, aiming for Seamus' head. The Irish boy laughed and ducked. Harry however, who was behind Seamus, did not.

Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth, swallowing laughter. Harry wiped the snow from his face, glaring. And just as suddenly, bent and tossed a snowball at Neville, who caught it unsuspectingly in the face.

"SNOWBALL FIGHT!" Ron bellowed, scooping up some snow and flinging it at Hermione.

The Head Girl gasped and hurled her own ball at Ron. By then, Neville had pelted Seamus (who flung snow at Heather) and Colin, who had hit Harry and Ginny, who in turn, pitched several snowballs at Hermione and Ron. Ron turned and aimed for Ginny, who bent down to grab more snow just as the snowball flew over her head.

And smack into Draco's. Everyone stopped for a second, watching and waiting to see how he'd react. Draco calmly reached down and picked up a handful of snow, sneering at it for a second, before a grin broke out on his face and he dumped in down Ginny's back.

Her shrill shriek broke the temporary halt in the game and soon, snowballs were flying all over the place; everyone was participating.

A few minutes later, the large doors opened again. everyone stopped, hiding the snowballs in their hands behind their backs. Blaise came through the door, holding something wrapped in a napkin in each hand.

Not looking up, and trying to avoid slippery snow on the steps, he descended them. As he made it all the way down and headed over to Draco, he glanced up. "Hey, I brought you some eggs, and-" whatever else he brought was cut off as nine snowballs flew at him from different angles.

Quite some time later, when everyone was lying panting in the snow, Blaise sat up, pulling something from under him. "Hey, Draco. D'you want your eggs and bacon now?" That broke everyone out in laughter again.

Eventually, they all stood, said their good-byes, and expressed how much fun they'd had. Neville, Seamus, and Colin left first, shaking hands with both Draco and Blaise, as if offering acquaintanceship, if not friendship. Then Ron, Harry, and Hermione left, all waving and smiling. That left Blaise and Draco and Heather and Ginny.

Ginny sat up and turned to look at Draco. "This was all your fault." She fell down beside him, flicking his ear playfully. "Traitor." She hissed again.

Draco grinned. Ginny looked hesitantly up at him. "So, they weren't too bad, were they?" At Draco's questioning glance, she added. "My friends. They weren't that bad, were they? For Gryffindors, anyway." Draco grinned and shifted to place a kiss on her nose, pink with cold.

"Ginny, they were nicer and to be perfectly frank, loads more fun than my friends."

"I heard that." Blaise called from the snow a few feet away.

They all laughed, harder when a clump of snow followed his accusation, landing on the middle of Draco's stomach.

Ginny grinned happily. She couldn't help it; her friends were accepting Draco. It was unimaginable. With everyone getting along, it was so perfect. For the first time she could remember, Draco actually looked happy with people outside her, Blaise, and Heather. He had been practically civil. Even more surprising: so had they. None of her friends had ever even had the inclination to be somewhat nice to Draco. Yet they had just had a grandly magnificent snowball fight together like kids having fun. Well, they were just kids having fun. She grinned even wider.

She started when Draco stood suddenly. "C'mon, we're all going to get pneumonia if we sit out here in the snow any longer. Besides, I'm starved." He protested. Ginny laughed and stood, brushing snow off her backside. Blaise and Heather were doing the same.

"So, where to now?" Blaise asked, slipping an arm around Heather's waist and pulling her closer. Ginny's stomach rumbled at the same time Draco's growled angrily. Heather and Blaise lowered their glances to the couple's stomachs and laughed. "I guess that answers that question." Heather laughed.

Draco grinned and came up behind Ginny, wrapping his arms around her waist. She covered his arms with hers, hugging his arms tight to her. He planted soft kisses in her hair until his stomach rumbled again. Ginny pulled away, laughing. "C'mon, let's go get something to eat."

Draco allowed himself to be pulled along. It was sickening how tightly he was wrapped around her finger. All she had to do was ask, and he would jump. Pathetic.

Ginny tugged at his sleeve, pulling him along.

A few minutes later, they were in the Great Hall. There was only one table set up; since there were few staying for the holidays, and most of them were Gryffindors. Comparatively, there were quite a few Slytherins staying this year (compared to recent years). A handful of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were there, but it was mostly students from Slytherin and Gryffindor staying.

Gryffindors almost always stayed for the holidays; most spent the extra time with friends from their own house or another. Slytherins, however, almost never stayed at Hogwarts for vacations; preferring to stay with their families. Since the decline of Voldemort, though, many Slytherin (DeathEater) families were torn apart and most left destitute, as was the case with Lucius Malfoy. So many DeathEaters had been captured, and their families ruined. So their children stayed at Hogwarts, where the food, shelter, and clothing was not an expense issue.

When they reached the table, they noticed how very few people there were; it was a bit late in the morning and everyone else had presumably already eaten and left.

Ginny and Draco sat down next to each other, while Blaise and Heather sat next to each other across from the other couple. The only other people at the table were Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, a friend of hers, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Colin, Lavendar, and Pavarti. Needless to say, the Gryffindors were at one end, and the Slytherins at the other with the two mixed couples smushed in the middle.

Alternately talking and eating, the two couples soon forgot about the presence of the other students. Until a moppy, grungy-looking grey owl flew in, drooping and dipping every once in a while. Ginny stopped eating, her eggs half-way to her mouth.

Heather also looked up, cocking her head to the side. "Ginny, isn't that your owl? Oh, what's it's name? Errol, that's it! Isn't that him there?" She nodded toward the owl, which was descending clumsily.

Before Ginny could answer, the large bird swooped suddenly, loosing all control. It nearly flew straight into Blaise, who had the sense of mind to catch it. "Damn crazed owl." He muttered, handing the letter to Ginny, whose face paled considerably.

"What is it?" Draco and Heather asked in unison.

"It's a Howler." Ginny answered shakily, as the edges started to smoke. Draco's eyes widened. "Well, hurry up and open it! It's worse if you don't. Besides, there's practically no one here."

Ginny nodded and gingerly opened the letter.

"GINEVRA TERESA WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU ASSOCIATE WITH THE LIKES OF A MALFOY WITHOUT TELLING US FIRST!"- her mother and father screamed in synchronization. Everyone at the table glanced up and Draco's eyebrows shot straight up. Ginny put her head in her hands.

_Oh shit. _


	18. Associations and Conspiracies

**Author's Note: **HAHAHAHAHAHA. Don't you just hate parents? But they rock, they really do. Aside from the whole I'm-going-to-set-out-to-make-you-life-miserable thing. Yeah, they're great fun. But, here it is, Chapter 18. Working diligently on chapter 19, but no promises. I love all you reviewers. Chapter 19 should be the last or second to last chapter if I don't do an epilogue, and the nex chapter should be on the dance, FINALLY! And yeah, the title for the last chapter was very sarcastic. Sorry, I just cannot control myself. Neither can the men in white coats who keep pestering me and my red-headed Muse friend who keeps spouting off Monty Python and Blackadder. Yeah, Protector of Meladon, that's you. But, with out further delay, I give you...The Creature...read and ejoy, please!

**Disclaimer: **See the last million chapters. (Groans and stabs self viciously with a daisy.) Feeling better...

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 18: Associations and Conspiracies**

**

* * *

**

_Shit shit shit shit shit._ Ginny thought wildly.

"YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED, ALL BECAUSE OF YOUR RELATIONS WITH THAT-THAT-THAT MALFOY!" Her mother's voice trembled. Her father's voice, however, continued, unwavering and strong. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, RUNNING OFF TO THE FORBIDDEN FOREST LIKE THAT? YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVEN'T BEEN USING YOUR HEAD, OR ELSE YOU WOULD HAVE NEVER GONE NEAR THAT FOREST OR THE MALFOY BOY! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU'RE EVEN ALLOWED TO DATE ANYONE, MUCH LESS A MALFOY? WE HAD TO HEAR ABOUT IT FROM RON! I'M ABSOLUTELY DISGRACED. MY OWN DAUGHTER!" Ginny's father's voice boomed over the now-silent Great Hall. The Gryffindors were looking rightfully astounded, though some of them had guessed what was going on between Ginny and Draco. The Slytherins were laughing hysterically. Heather and Blaise were staring at the letter with wide eyes.

"I WANT YOU TO BREAK OFF WHATEVER IS GOING ON BETWEEN YOU TWO IMMEDIATELY. I DON'T EVEN WANT YOU NEAR HIM, LET ALONE DATING HIM. AS OF THIS MOMENT, YOU ARE GROUNDED UNTIL YOU'RE EIGHTEEN, AND YOU WON'T BE DATING ANYONE UNTIL YOU'VE MOVED OUT OF THIS HOUSE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I'M IMMENSELY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU! DON'T BOTHER COMING HOME UNTIL SUMMER. AND THEN, YOU ARE IN SERIOUS TROUBLE!" Ginny's mother ended, and the Great Hall rung with the heavy silence.

"Ginny?" Heather asked softly. The red-haired girl glanced up, her face drained, and tears in her eyes; though she looked more angry than sad.

The silence was broken by the thick laughter of the Slytherins from down the table.

Pansy Parkinson was laughing hysterically, as was her friend. "You're grounded 'til you're 18 Weasley! And you can't date 'til you're out of your house. Guess that means you'll never date." She paused to sneer meanly between Draco and Ginny. "It's not like you could ever afford another house."

Before anyone knew what had happened, Ginny was up out of her seat and down the table. Before anyone could react, there was a loud SLAP-ing sound and Pansy was doubled over her plate, clutching her cheek, where a hand-shaped spot was turning red.

Ginny looked dangerous. Very dangerous. Like a lioness defending her cubs. She looked pissed and dangerous. She was practically shaking as she held up her hand again, ready to slap the hell out of Pansy, who had chosen the wrong moment to bring herself to Ginny's attention.

"MISS WEASLEY!" a silky voice boomed over her shoulder. She whirled around, her face still a mask of anger and hate. Snape stood just behind her, looking for once, ruffled.

"That will do, Miss Weasley. Fifty points from Gryffindor for an unwarranted attack on another student, and detention with me this evening!" he snarled. Something snapped in Ginny. She shook her head. "By all means, Professor Snape, take points off, give me detention; I deserve it."

She narrowed her eyes, the cold, hard glint coming back into them. When she spoke, it was icy cold and dripping with anger. "But don't you dare say it was unwarranted. That was justice, pure and sweet. My actions were justified because of what dear Miss Parkinson said. I understand you taking off points for what I did, but don't you dare stand here with the audacity to tell me that I was in the wrong; that I began this. I'm finishing this, and I accept my punishment."

Snape was staring at her as if she's just burst out singing "I'm a prostitute." His gaze was shocked and unbelieving, as though it wasn't possible that Ginny Weasley was standing here, telling him what to do.

"Please, sir," Draco cut in, tapping Snape's shoulder. "Gi-eh, Weasley has a point; Pansy did start this. Perhaps her punishment doesn't have to be so strict?" He asked. Snape glanced from the unlikely advocate for Ginny to Blaise, who was nodding in affirmation, to Ginny, who was gritting her teeth at him.

He shook his head slightly. Perhaps he was getting to old for this; nothing was making sense. Why the hell was Draco Malfoy dating a Gryffindor sixth year? And she was a Weasley, too. And why the hell was Blaise Zabini sticking up for her? And…ah!...why the hell was Blaise Zabini's arm around the waist of a half-blood fifth year Gryffindor? Ahh!

He shook his head more vigorously, realizing they were waiting for him to say or do something. "Errr…well, yes. Fine, then, Mr. Malfoy. I suppose…well, yes. But I'm afraid that Miss Weasley will still have to attend detention, and I will take…ten points from Gryffindor." He debated.

Pansy Parkinson, who had been whimpering quietly (well, perhaps not too quietly) for the past few moments, now stood angrily, eyes flashing.

"Ten points?! Professor Snape, she hit me! Look, I'll have a bruise! Look what she's done to my face!" she pointed to the red mark on her cheek. Snape examined the pink spot with little interest or compassion.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Please, if anything I did her a favor. There's no way a face like that could get any worse, especially not from the little tap I gave her." Ginny said, under her breath.

Snape had no time to reprimand the still-fuming red-head; he had his hands full with trying to restrain Pansy, who had lunged for Ginny, pug face contorted in rage. "You little bitch! I'll rip your fucking head off! You skinny little slut!"

"Parkinson, language!" Snape snapped, pulling back the enraged girl who was clawing at the air in front of her wildly.

Draco was frowning darkly. Pansy stopped struggling in mid-air, breathing heavily. "You'll regret ever touching me…" Ginny rolled her eyes "Too late." She muttered, only making Pansy more livid. "…you fucking little slut. Why hit me? Jealous because Draco doesn't like fucking you as much as he does me? A little twig like you has got to be the worst lay ever."

Snape's eyes flashed dangerously as Ginny and Heather blanched. "That will do, Miss Parkinson! Ten points from Slytherin, and it'll be more if you do not desist with this mortifying display of vulgarity!" Snape fumed. Pansy went quiet, but her eyes were glittering with triumph.

Snape let her go, and she sauntered back to her seat. Snape smoothed his greasy hair back and sighed. "In light of certain…recent…new…" he sighed angrily again "…due to that scene with Miss Parkinson, I will lift the detention, but there's still ten points from Gryffindor." He turned on heel angrily.

Draco stared at Ginny in disbelief. "Wow. I cannot believe you got away with that." He gaped. Heather was suppressing extreme laughter, looking very much in agony, and Blaise was just watching the proceedings looking vastly amused.

Ginny shook her head, also looking somewhat stunned. "Yeah…that was odd." She didn't smile however, and that was bothering Draco. Whenever something went wrong, Ginny would smile and make a joke to try and make herself feel better. But now she was just standing there, her face blank.

Blaise and Heather passed a glance. Heather frowned and Blaise winced. Ginny turned suddenly. "Excuse me…I've got to go. I'll see you later." She said hollowly, not looking at anyone, staring blankly off into space. She walked off before anyone could say or do anything, not too quickly, not too slowly. She just walked away.

Draco arched an eyebrow and turned back to Blaise and Heather. "Was it something I said?" He asked. Heather frowned at him and Blaise tightened his grip on her shoulder.

"Um…it wasn't what you said, so much as what Pansy said." Blaise explained.

Draco cocked his head to the side. "What did she say? Was it that whole slut thing? If so, I swear, I'll-" Heather cut in. "It wasn't that." She looked up to Blaise, who nodded in ascension. "Um…remember what Pansy said? About the reason Ginny hit her? That she was jealous because…" Heather blushed and Blaise suppressed a grin, finishing for her. "…because Pansy was a better lay than Ginny was." Blaise bit his lip. "Although, you've never slept with Ginny, so…" he arched an eyebrow. "you _haven't_ slept with Ginny, have you?"

Draco rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Of course not." He scoffed, then frowned, his brow furrowing. "But what did she get so upset over?'

Heather refrained from banging her head repeatedly on the table, though she contented herself by rolling her eyes. "C'mon Draco. Just the idea of you sleeping with Parkinson is enough to make anyone want to get away, plus the fact that Gin's head over heels for you." She arched an eyebrow, mimicking him. "I don't suppose you told her you and Parkinson had sex…ual relations?" she caught herself, flaming again.

"Again, of course not. It's not like it comes up in everyday conversation." It was Draco's turn to roll his eyes.

Heather pulled a face at him and Blaise smiled. "Either way, that's why Ginny ran off."

Draco turned to where Ginny had left, starting to leave. A hand on his arm stopped him. He whirled around. Heather let go of his arm, her eyes pleading with her. "Just…give her a little time to herself. I'll go up and talk to her in a little while." She assured him.

Draco frowned, but sat back down anyway. Blaise noticed his discomfort and preoccupation. "Well," he said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them "who's up for a little game of Quidditch?"

Ginny walked around the halls in a daze. She was tired, and hearing that her boyfriend slept with Pansy Parkinson (aside from making her want to divest her stomach of all contents) didn't do much for her mood.

She just needed some sleep, that was all. A little sleep, and a talk to Draco later. It wasn't that she was jealous or anything, but she was a little hurt that Draco hadn't mentioned it. But then again, how odd would it have been if he _had_ mentioned it?

Ginny shuddered. Eeewwww. Pansy Parkinson? Draco had to have been either really desperate, really drunk, or taken some potion he really shouldn't have. _Mental note to self_, she thought_...never drink any potions unless I know exactly what it is._ Shuddering again, Ginny headed up to Gryffindor common room.

For some reason, even though it was practically the afternoon, she just wanted to go to sleep. The whole Howler thing from her parents had frightfully drained her. Her eyes flashed, opening wide with realization.

Wait…how in hell did her parents even find out that she and Draco were together? It wasn't even official yet; no one in school knew they were an 'item'. So how did her parents find out and owl her? What was it the Howler had said?

"_WE HAD TO FIND OUT ABOUT IT FROM RON!..."_ Oh yes, dear brother Ron.

Stepping up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, she stopped, scuffing her foot on the floor, deep in thought. "Impedit Slitonus." She murmured as the Fat Lady cleared her throat, waiting for the password.

Inside the common room was exactly the freckled, red-headed someone she wanted to talk to. Well, not necessarily talk to, more like pound his face into the ground with her fists. Or even better, his Beater's club.

Ron glanced up from where he was reclining in a comfortable armchair. Seeing Ginny, his eyes went wide and he stood, abruptly cutting off the conversation he'd been holding with Parvati Patil. He began backing away from Ginny, confusing everyone because…well, it was Ginny. Good-girl Ginny who never did anything bad and was staring innocently at Ron, who by the way was not fooled as his housemates were.

"Er…hey Gins…" he trailed off awkwardly, still edging away from his sister.

_Well, good news travels fast, it seems._ Ginny thought ruefully to herself, still smiling sweetly at her terrified brother.

Ron knew better than to be taken in by the whole wide-eyed, I'm-an-innocent-little-girl act. After sixteen years with her, he knew how her twisted mind operated. This was the calm before the storm, so to speak, and Ginny Weasley was one hell of a hurricane.

Ginny took a step closer to her brother, taking a faint sense of delight in the way his eyes widened comically and he stumbled backwards. "Ron, it seems that you've been keeping up communications with mum." She said sweetly, the fake smile still plastered to her face.

Ron nodded dumbly, glancing around the room as if to look for help. Ginny frowned slightly and Ron winced. This was it; he steeled himself for her explosion. Oh, why had he written to mum in the first place?!

"Mind telling me why exactly you did trust me enough so that you had to go running off to mum?" She asked, voice low and stingingly bitter and harsh. Ron flinched internally, but managed to get his externals back from 'Cringing' position to 'Neutral'.

"I was worried about you, Gins. I mean…c'mon it was Malfoy! You wouldn't listen to me, so I had to get your attention somehow."

Ginny scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Did it ever occur to you that I might actually care for him? You know me, even when I was dating other guys, I never said I was in love." _ I might have thought it at the time…but he doesn't need to know that._ She mused.

Ron restrained from rolling his eyes, though the effort was strenuous. "Even if you were worried about me (which I vaguely appreciate), you still had no right to tell mum. This is my life, and I would have told mum if and when I was ready. When we were ready. Did you ever stop to think that perhaps, just perhaps, we knew the risks and the improbabilities and took the plunge anyway? I'm committed, and Draco…you know Draco….he never does anything unless he really wants to. It was none of your business, older brother or not. Now I've got mum and dad breathing down my neck, trying to end my life as I know it now. They don't want me o see Draco, _they_ don't want to see me, I'm not allowed to have a life anymore (like I had on before…), and it's all thanks to you. Cheers, Ron; thanks for being such a great older brother."

Tears were welling up in her eyes as she turned to storm off. However, Ron reached out and caught her. She refused to look up at him, instead staring bodily at the floor, watching her vision swell with tears and release as the silvery pearls fell to the floor at her feet.

"Gins, I'm so sorry." Ron said huskily, and then did something that surprised them both very much. He pulled her into a tight hug. "I sent that letter to mum because I was scared that he was hurting you. I saw bruises on your arms, and he said you two had an argument. I couldn't stand the thought that he was touching you. I was wrong, Gins; I know that now. I've seen how he looks at you; he's completely devoted to you. I just wish I'd seen it earlier." He muttered into her head as he hugged her tighter.

Sighing, Ginny felt her anger melting away. She reached up and hugged Ron back, resting her head on his shoulder like she had when they were kids.

"I know Ron. I know." She said soothingly. And in that short exchange, an understanding passed between the two teens. After that, there were very few Weasley Wars in the Gryffindor common room. Until Ron stole Ginny's favorite pair of socks a week later. But very little drama ensued between brother and sister (aside from the occasional 'friendly' banter…that was always fun).

"So…what were you two fighting about, anyway?"

Ron and Ginny were sitting by the fire, talking after their little spat. Which was a rare thing indeed; Ron was usually too occupied with Harry and Hermione to bother with more than the odd ''lo' to his sister when they passed. Ginny, in turn spent too much time in the library and with Heather. But it was nice to curl up by the fire, as they had done when they were kids, and just laugh and talk.

Ginny bit her lip, turning to face her brother. "You know…I'm not entirely sure about that myself. From what I gathered, Draco thought Harry and I were going together to the dance; you know the one after break?" she laughed and shrugged her shoulders, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'men'.

Ron cocked his head to the side, eying his sister warily. "What do you mean? Gins, you said you'd go with Harry! I asked you and you said 'fine'." He looked very puzzled and very 'Ron'.

It was Ginny's turn to cock her head in confusion. "When? I don't remember you asking, and I certainly wouldn't have said 'yes'. I'm with Draco now. Harry and I are just friends."

"Gins, don't you remember? It was right in here in the common room. I told you Harry wanted to take you to the dance…remember? When I was first talking to you about Draco, after that…kiss…in Hogsmeade?"

Ginny's eyes widened. "Damn!" she hissed. So that's what he'd been saying while she was listening to the PBE boxes. Damn those things anyhow!

Ron was staring at her as if she was off her rocker. Which was probable. "Nice language. Care to explain?" He grinned, looking more and more like her goofy older brother.

Ginny flamed. How was the best way to go about this? 'Erm, yeah…sorry Ron, but I wasn't really listening to you because you were being a prat?' yeah, that would go over well.

"Er…I was a bit…preoccupied at the time. I didn't really hear you." She flamed. Not one of her better or more believable lies.

Ron seemed to swallow it, though. "Yeah, you were looking rather odd. So…I guess this means you won't want to be going to the dance with Harry?"

Ginny winced. "Er…not really, no." She frowned apologetically.

Ron smiled. "Great! Well," he amended "not great…but…see, Harry's been after this Ravenclaw girl for a while, but that was after he'd asked you, and he was kind of sore about it." His smile split wider. "This works out perfectly!"

"Except that I'm going with Draco, right?" Ginny teased. Ron shrugged, grinning. "Can't have everything, can you?" Ginny grinned along with her brother. "No, you can't." She agreed.

Blaise was zipping across the Quidditch field, oblivious to the cold wind rushing around him. Draco was still on the ground, buttoning up the black jacket that Heather had made him for Christmas. It was quite chilly out. Heather was standing on the pitch, her arms wrapped around herself; cold despite the long suede, black-fur trimmed coat she was wearing.

"Is he insane? It's freezing down here, it must be icicles up there." She said, her breath catching in the air as she gazed up at where Blaise was doing loops and whirls in mid-air.

Draco grinned. "Quite possibly. It happens when you take too many Bludgers to the head." He smirked, eyes glinting evilly. "Or if you spend too much time around Gryffindors."

Heather merely laughed. "Don't go trying to blame us Gryffs for your mental instability." She poked, grinning with a gleam in her eyes rendering her very much like a cat stalking up behind a bird.

"Glad to know someone was keeping you in your place while I was gone."

Draco spun around. "Ginny!" he breathed.

Ginny was walking onto the pitch, her jacket pulled tightly around her against the cold and her broom slung over her shoulder. She was smiling, though, and it was that facial expression that made Draco practically stumble over to her, pulling her into a tight hug.

Ginny dropped her broom, reaching up to pull him closer, glad to be back in his arms. Yeah, brothers were alright for hugging, but nothing beat hugging your boyfriend. Except perhaps snogging the life out of him…

"Goodness; first Ron, now you…going to break my ribs, you are." She quirked, not loosening her hold on him. Draco managed to pull away slightly; not an easy task when Ginny Weasley is wrapped around you like a python.

"Why'd you storm off, Ginny?" he asked softly, planting a kiss on her forehead. Ginny smiled and flushed. "Um…just that whole Pansy thing was a little uncomfortable." She admitted. Draco laughed and pulled her head up to look at him.

"You know…she didn't mean anything to me." He said, suddenly serious. Ginny's face became serious as well, her smile dropping off. Draco resolved to do something very soon to bring that smile back…

"It was a few years back, when I was still with my parents. They encouraged that kind of thing; they wanted Pansy and I to get married once we were out of Hogwarts." He shuddered. "Luckily, things change, and I met you." He grinned, pulling her face closer to his. "And you're better than she ever was."

Ginny's eyes opened. "Didn't you sleep with her?" she asked, perplexed. Draco grinned; a smooth, sexy grin that made chills chase waves of heat down her spine. "Yeah…but you're still better." He whispered, before closing the distance between their lips.

Okay, so it wasn't poetry or anything of the sort. But the kiss he gave her was more than enough to make up for it. It was like falling in love with him all over again.

His lips coaxed hers open; after many, many, many kisses they knew exactly what to do, but it still felt like an adventure every time; still new and exciting. His tongue traced patterns on her lips and she sighed, peacefully.

They were just getting into the kiss when a loud and unbelievable cough brought them back to reality. Heather and Blaise were standing a few feet away, and Heather's cheeks were going a brilliant shade of red, most likely having nothing to do with the cold.

Draco groaned in disappointment, feeling the same in Ginny. "Yes? Is there any good reason we just stopped…what we were doing?" Draco asked turning so he was standing behind Ginny and wrapping his arms around her waist.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Besides the fact that snogging in front of us is disgusting…I thought we were going to play Quidditch." He practically pouted. Ginny laughed, Heather rolled her eyes, and Draco threw the Snitch (from his pocket) at Blaise.

Several hours later, VERY cold and tired, the four students re-entered the castle, all except Heather (who had remained firmly on the ground while the others flew) trudging along wearily.

"Ow." Commented Blaise lightly. They had all decided it was too dark to play when Blaise mistook a Bludger for the Quaffle and caught it painfully in his arms.

"No kidding." Draco laughed, breaking into near-silent chuckles; he'd been unable to stop laughing since that little incident, which he found to be terribly funny.

Ginny groaned and tugged on Heather's robes. "I'm so tired. I'm hopping straight into the shower and then right in bed!" she mumbled, rubbing her sore backside.

Heather laughed and silently agreed. They said their good-byes (each giving their boys a sound kiss to last to the next day) and headed up the steps to the Gryffindor common room.

After that, the remaining days of the holidays went by rather quickly, and before any of them knew it, it was time to go back to school. Time to see how everyone would take the relationships the two unlikely couples had formed over the break.


	19. Hell's Better When You Have Someone by Y...

**Author's Note:** Gods, don't all you teens out there just hate high school? My first week back from Christmas break, and I just want to sleep, watch Eddie Izzard, Monty Python, and write. And I can! A-B honor roll, thank you so much. Although if it hadn't been for my effing Geometry class (B), I would have had all A's, and could write all day long. Alas. But, here it is...Chapter 19! YAYNESS! Thanks to **SAKBL** for your astute catch on my fudging of what type of owl Draco has. Unfortunately, I am far too much of a lazy-arse to change it...and I don't know how. But, yes, it should be an eagle owl, not a barn owl...or whatever I put on there. Um...let's just say that Draco's owl had a bad encounter with a...fighter jet. Yes, because there are many of those flying around Hogwarts...Not... Anyways...here it is, read and enjoy. THANKS FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS! THANK YOU THANKYOU THANK YOU! Adieu.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine unless it is, if not, it belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 19: Hell's Better When You Have Someone by Your Side**

* * *

It was floating around the castle within the first day that school let in from the holidays.

"Ginny Weasley's dating who?"

Everyone was talking about it; from confused first years to stunned seventh years of all houses. The word of Ginny Weasley; sweet, innocent Gryffindor good-girl Ginny Weasley's Howler from her irate parents, and how she was still seeing Draco Malfoy, undisputed Evil Boy of Hogwarts.

"How is it possible?" They asked when it was confirmed by the couple's brief hugs and kisses in the hallways between classes where they met.

"Why doesn't her brother do something about it?" They questioned each other, seeing Ginny pressing her lips firmly on Draco's leaving him breathless, time and time again, as if it never grew old.

"Why is she dating _him_?" They asked, many noticing for the first time that Ginny Weasley had grown up and was not altogether bad looking. In fact, she was remarkably striking.

No matter how many questions they asked; directly or behind their hands in whispers, Ginny and Draco didn't seem to care. They went about it as if they were the only ones in school. Well, perhaps not the only ones. It seemed that the little dark witch who was always hanging around Ginny was going with Blaise Zabini, Slytherin seventh year.

Many, many people were shocked, and the two couples causing the sensation just didn't give a damn.

"Ginny, is it true? What they're saying in the halls? You're dating Malfoy?"

"Ginny, you can't be dating Malfoy, he's a Slytherin, and a DeathEater's son, and…well, he's a Malfoy!"

"Ginny, why him? There are other guys in this school who like you and are way nicer than Malfoy. Why not go out with one of them?"

Ginny finally snapped at this one, and turned from her breakfast on Wednesday morning to face Lavendar Brown, whose question had finally put her over the edge. "First of all, Lavendar, I don't want a guy who likes me when I have one that loves me, Slytherin or not. Second of all, no one treats me as well as Draco does, and I'm not going to do anything to change that. Now I'd appreciate it if everyone would just leave us be? We're not breaking any rules, we're not doing anything we shouldn't…hell all we do is kiss and hold and talk, is that too much? I seem to recall you and a certain boy doing a lot more than that the other day. Why should I be any different just because I'm dating a Malfoy? Get over his name; he has, I have, now the rest of you get lives and leave us to ours!" She stood suddenly, slamming shut her Charms book and storming out of the Great Hall.

Lavendar's jaw had dropped and Pavarti Patil looked scandalized. Hermione, who was sitting next to them just clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Well, if you ask me, you deserved it. Honestly, just leave the poor girl alone." Ignoring the scathing looks the two Gryffindor girls were giving her, Hermione stood and walked over to where Ron and Harry were sitting.

Meanwhile, Ginny was furious, and throwing one hell of a fit. An unfortunate third year Slytherin made the mistake of asking her in an amazed voice if she was really Draco Malfoy's girlfriend. Watching the younger boy scamper off in panic, trying to dodge her curses, Ginny frowned, feeling tears prickling in her eyes. What a day…

It didn't get any better, either. In her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, several of her classmates shot her strange looks; they were talking about the Unforgivable Curses, and their uses. DeathEaters came up a lot in that lesson, and by the end of it, Ginny's cheeks were burning from the humiliation of being stared at all class, and anger for the same reason.

On her way to her next class, she overheard three sets of students from all four houses, two teachers, and several pictures talking about her relationship with Draco.

The last straw was on her way to her Potions class. Walking down the hallways, she couldn't help but overhear the group's conversation in front of her, especially when her name popped up.

"I just can't believe Malfoy would stoop so low as to date a Gryffindor! Who would have thought. And a Weasley, no less."

"I know, I thought the Malfoys hated the Weasleys, but there they are."

"Wonder what Weasley's doing to keep Malfoy's interest?" The Ravenclaw girl giggled with her friends, oblivious to the seething red-head behind her.

"Certainly something I don't want to know about!"

Ginny had had quite enough. She strode forward faster until she swerved in front of them, halting their process. Some people stopped in the halls to stare. Ginny Weasley looked nothing short of breath-taking right then.

Her hair was ruffled, almost crackling with the rampant electricity that coursed through her veins and flashed through her eyes. They had gone a strange amber color; sharp and piercing, but captivating nonetheless. Her cheeks were flushed with color, her lips pale and full, quivering with suppressed anger that was burning from her very center. Ginny couldn't ever remember feeling so angry or alive in her life.

She took one step forward, and it seemed everyone else took a step back. Yeah, she was gorgeous, but it was a predatory beauty; like a giant tiger is magnificently noble or a snake powerful and majestic, definitely no one wanted to be within striking distance of this girl right now, many remembering what they'd heard about what happened to Pansy Parkinson.

Ginny turned her eyes to the three girls who were caught, paralytic, in her wrath. Her eyes were sparking and flashing dangerously, like lightning bolts; pretty, but deadly. The three fifth and sixth year girls cowered under her glare and one actually began whimpering. Ginny had never been tall, like Ron, but now she seemed like a wall of strength and fury, towering over the three pitiful girls. "I am going to say this once, and only once." She spoke, her voice soft and calm, yet at the same time cutting and sharp. If she hadn't had the attention of everyone in the halls, she did now. "What goes on between me and Draco, or whoever I date, for that matter, remains between me and that person. It is no business of yours why we are together, and I feel no duty to tell you. If I have to listen to one more person going in about this, I promise, there will be hell to pay. Pass this along to your friends, because I will not be having this ridiculous conversation again. I am not a Weasley. He is not a Malfoy. I am not a Gryffindor. He is not a Slytherin. He are not enemies. We are in love, and that is all anyone needs to know. That is all we need to know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a class to get to." Changing and smiling sunnily abruptly, she chucked her chin at them.

"I think that's all, so 'ta' for now." She said sweetly, and flounced down the hall to the amazed or amused stares of half the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor houses, with a few Hufflepuffs and Slytherins thrown in for good measure.

Of those Slytherins, two sets of eyes followed her all the way down the hall until she disappeared into her Potions classroom and they had to move so they wouldn't be late for class. The silver gaze lasted longer than the deep blue one, and stared after the flaming girl with an intense and deep expression.

Draco's week had been going in the same downward spiral as Ginny's had been, though to a lesser extent. He had a few of his classmates and a handful of Ravenclaws ask him about him and Ginny Weasley, the good-girl of Gryffindor.

"Hey, uh Malfoy? Are you seriously going out with that Weasley girl? Why? Is it a bet, or a joke?" He'd been asked, to which he had growled menacingly, scaring off the sixth year Slytherin who was always kissing up to him.

"Malfoy, you bedded the Weasley girl? That is so wrong on so many levels! Way to go mate, her brother's going to explode!" Stupid effing Ravenclaw. He hadn't said much else after Draco's fist connected with his stomach rather painfully.

"What's the plan with the Weasley girl? Date her, screw her, dump her? Excellent! But seriously, a Weasley? Didn't know you were so desperate, mate…" it was this statement, about the tenth or so like it that shoved Draco rather unceremoniously off the brink of control.

He'd grabbed the front of the robes of the kid who'd said it, breathing hard and lifting the kid off his feet. Okay, so he wasn't really a kid so much as a sixth year, but that wasn't really important.

Draco growled deeply in the back of his throat. "Listen, you filthy little piece of shit. The only plans I have for Weasley are quite frankly none of your concern. I'm not planning to cut and run, if that's what you're thinking. And I'm not desperate. I'm fucking lucky. Ginevra Weasley is the most incredible girl you'll ever have the privilege to look at. And guess what?" He grinned meanly. "She's mine. Now sod off." He said, letting down the boy and shoving him away.

He'd thought his outburst (done in the seclusion of the Slytherin common room on Tuesday evening) was bad. And then he'd seen Ginny's display on Wednesday, and his feeling for her grew, if possible, even stronger. He had never seen such devotion, let alone been on the receiving end of it.

Ginny was grumbling as she left her Potions classroom for lunch. Her encounter with the flitting twits of Ravenclaw had left her feeling passionately and grudgingly angry. Needless to say, Potions with Snape had not gone too well.

However, considering who she was and what she'd done, she supposed he was actually being if not lenient, at least fair. After that whole Parkinson ordeal, he had, unbelievable though it was, grown rather fond of Ginny. At least he didn't try to take fifty points from Gryffindor for 'having a disgustingly cheerful smile' anymore.

In class, though, she had been fuming visibly. Those around her had the good sense not to say anything, but Snape, in his usual display of dim-witted behavior, soon approached Ginny's table where she, Colin, and a girl named Felica Mayers were working on The Abhorrence Draught, a potion that created animosity in the person who drank it.

Ginny was currently pounding the hell out of a bicorn horn, turning it into a very fine powder. She was attacking the magical ingredient with such ferocity that she didn't hear the Potions master sidling up to her table.

A not-so-discreet couch from Colin brought her head up. "What?" she snapped irritably, sorry to be taking things out on Colin. Colin said nothing but arched an eyebrow, which seemed to be pointing to something behind her…

She turned around. Snape was standing there, looking neutral and calm as always. "Miss Weasley, though you are certainly doing a thorough job on crushing that bicorn horn, I suggest you reduce the effort you're putting into it; by the time you're finished, there won't be anything left to add to your potion.

To his supreme surprise (he'd expected her to nod and consent) she glared up at him as if she'd been administered some of The Abhorrence Draught already.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Weasley, and it will be more unless you wipe that insolent look off your face this instant." He growled. She complied, though she still looked peeved.

Snape noticed at that moment (along with how very un-professional and un-Snape it was of his to be thinking about it) just how strong of a character Ginevra Weasley was. Something had changed. She was no longer the little scrawny kid sister of Ron Weasley. She was a young woman with a rebellious backbone in her.

Snape had to fight back a smile, something he rarely had to do.

My, my, weren't things getting interesting? He strode away, going to his desk.

Ginny had a couple more exchanges with Snape before class let out, adding up to fifteen points from Gryffindor. By the time class let out, Ginny was frantic to get away from the Potions teacher. Unfortunately, Colin and Felica had left her to do the cleaning up.

Sighing, Ginny began placing things in their proper places. Glancing around, she noticed that Snape was nowhere to be seen; probably he'd already left for lunch. Ginny was still grumbling and muttering curses to herself when the door to the Potions classroom opened.

Draco had hurried out of his History of Magic classes to meet Ginny as she left her Potions class. He waited for a while in the hallway before becoming impatient and striding into the classroom. Ginny was still there, placing a jar of beetle eyes on top of a counter along with several others. She glanced up, her face a scowl.

The second she saw who it was, however, the scowl broke into the softest smile. In seconds flat (honestly, Draco had no idea how the girl moved so fast) she was on him, her arms around his neck as she buried her face into his shoulder.

His hands came up automatically to grip her shoulder blades, rubbing her back soothingly. "Hard day?" he questioned. Ginny's strangled laugh confirmed his thoughts. "That's putting it mildly." She joked, pulling back for a second to look up into his grey-blue eyes.

"Lucky you're worth it." She grinned, and pulled his mouth to hers. Draco shuddered, his hands coming up to touch her, hold her without his knowledge. No matter how many times they did it, her kisses would always make him weak and wanting more.

Ginny smiled as his tongue poked between her lips. He always did that, and it always made her smile. Her hands came up to tangle in his hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. His hands moved down her spine to her hips, then down lower.

Ginny inhaled sharply and Draco pulled away, removing his hands. "Sorry, I can't help it." He really did sound sorry, too. Ginny smiled at him, and Draco had to fight to keep his hands clenched at his sides.

"It's alright. Actually…" she blushed a brilliant shade of red "…I don't mind so much." She was surprised to hear herself say it, perhaps even more so than Draco. After the whole episode with Dean, she had never really liked anyone touching her. But when Draco touched her, she forgot about Dean and everyone else but him.

He touched her softly and gently, as if she was something delicate and precious. She felt loved, and it made her feel incredibly happy. Draco groaned and pulled her into a kiss again, this time letting his hands skim all over her body. Ginny was practically delirious when he finally pulled away, breathing somewhat unnaturally.

"Damnit, Ginny, you're going to drive me insane!" he breathed, staring down at the stunning girl in his arms who was apparently affected as much by him as he was by her. She grinned, and Draco bit his lip to keep from pouncing on her.

"Don't try to blame me for your mentality or lack of." Ginny grinned, repeating what Heather had told him over the holidays. Draco grinned and pulled her into another searing kiss. After a few heated moments, he pulled away again. "Damn, I keep getting distracted…" Ginny ran her tongue over her numb lips and he was nearly distracted again. "…I wanted to say how flattering your devotion is." He said, his voice light and teasing, though his words and their meaning was deep.

Ginny tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

Draco nodded towards the door. "That scene out in the hallway. Bloody brilliant." He breathed, grinning maniacally as Ginny blushed. "You saw that?" she flamed again and Draco laughed. "Yeah, and I must say I didn't like it one bit." His words were angry, but he seemed...practically chipper. Odd.

She voiced her opinions. Draco grinned at her and led her over to a stool by her table. He sat down on the one next to hers and stared at her long and hard. Ginny felt her cheeks warming under his intense gaze.

"No, it's not odd. Out there in the hallway, when you got onto those three girls…" he searched for the right words "…you were the most astounding thing I'd ever seen. Everyone was looking at you: the girls with envy, and the guys with want… and you're mine." He grinned again; they seemed to be like hiccups: spontaneous and impossible to stop once they got started.

"I already told you once; I'm the luckiest man alive." He whispered before covering her mouth in a soft, seeking kiss.

Snape was not feeling like he was the luckiest man alive…on the contrary, he felt like he was going to be the sickest man alive as he turned away from where his prize pupil and pet Slytherin was snogging the hell out of Ginevra Weasley in his classroom.

_Urrggghhhhh. _He thought, shuddering in disgust. This was interesting…very interesting. Revolting…but interesting all the same. He turned back to his special stores and busied himself with work; from the looks of it, he would be here for a while.

"Blaise! Blaise, wait up! Hey Blaise! Not you, is your name Blaise? No, okay so move. Blaise!"

Blaise turned around, grinning as Heather slipped through the group of people hovering around the doors to the Great Hall. They were all reading a notice about the dance coming up the weekend after this one, on Saturday night. The students in the Dancing Life class would meet after classes on Fridays and at the usual times on Saturday and Sunday to go over the dances they were to perform.

Neither Blaise and Heather nor Draco and Ginny had come up with a dance to do, and they were running out of time.

Heather rushed up to Blaise, waving a book at him, her cheeks flushed. "I think I found something!" she breathed, shaking the book at him. Blaise plucked the volume from her grasp and glanced at the cover (101 Mystic Dances from the Dark Ages) before flipping to the page she'd marked.

He read a bit before glancing up at her, one dark eyebrow raised. "You want to do _this_?" he asked, putting the book under her nose. Heather nodded. Blaise glanced back at the page she had marked for a dance.

It looked…interesting, that was certain. From the moving illustration on the opposite page, it looked like a Celtic dance, but between just two people. He studied it for a while, then grinned up at Heather, whose expecting and unsure gaze wavered and turned to a matching smile.

"Looks good." Blaise commented, handing the book back to Heather. "We have to make costumes, though. Right?" Heather slipped the book into her shoulder bag and nodded. "Simple enough. We can just use the Book." She said, bringing the Book of Shadows and waving it at him before sliding it back into her bag.

Blaise nodded. Now all they had to do was to learn the dance. It looked simple enough, and they had hours and hours of practicing time. "What's it called?"

Heather cocked an eyebrow. "Wha- oh, the dance. Um…oh what was it? It was something weird, like…spin…twirl…no…oh, Gyrating Darkness." She concluded, snapping her fingers. "That's it." She confirmed.

Blaise stared at her, trying to bite back a grin. "Gyrating Darkness?" he snickered, losing his control. Heather rolled her eyes, narrowing them at him. "Yeah…or would you rather we did the Twirling Swan?" she quipped. Blaise shook his head hastily. "No, no, Gyrating Darkness is just perfect." He waved his hands. Heather grinned and linked her arm with Blaise's. "Well, I suppose this is where I leave you…you know, lunch and all." She shrugged and reached up on her toes, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

Several girls behind them stopped talking, and Heather couldn't hold back a smile; it was so ridiculous how people overreacted to the most inconsequential things. Honestly, her relationship with Blaise had nothing to do with them.

Sighing, Heather leaned back. "I'll see you after last class today? Library?" Heather asked, shuffling half-heartedly towards the Great Hall door. Blaise nodded, and watched ruefully as the tiny witch walked off, dignified and head held high, completely ignoring the heavy silence that followed her through the door.

As soon as the Great Hall door closed behind Heather, conversation started up again, people speaking in hushed tones, though not too hushed, as Blaise could make out practically every word that passed by him.

"-can't believe it, did you see her? Kissing him right in the middle of the hall?"

"-she's too young for him. He's got to be at least two years older than her."

"-I heard she's sleeping with him…why else would he be with her? He could have almost any girl he wanted, and he chooses her? Not unless there's something going on between them."

"-it's horrible. Poor girl…and I always thought she was so pure…she's always on about ethics and what's right and wrong…well, who knows?"

"-yeah, you never can tell…"

Blaise (who up until this point had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed and getting steadily more furious by the second) burst with anger, much as Ginny had.

"THAT"S ENOUGH!" He thundered, drawing the attention of everyone in the hallway. His cheeks and ears were red, and his eyes were black and dark, slicing through everyone he glared at. "I'm standing right here…you could at least pretend to talk about something else. It's quite honestly no business of yours. If you have a problem with it, either deal with it, ignore us, or talk _to_ us. But do not talk _about _us behind our backs." He growled threateningly before whirling around to stalk off to Slytherin tower.

"Ginny!? Ginny, Quidditch practice is in five minutes, and you'd better be ready, because I am not dragging your sorry, half-dressed arse out onto the Quidditch pitch!" Harry yelled up the girl's staircase, glancing every few seconds at his watch.

Ginny popped her head out her door. "Harry, I'm effing dressed already! If you need someone to rant at, go find Ron, don't do it to me just because I'm his little sister! Oh, and just because you're my surrogate brother while Ron and Hermione are off in Potions doesn't mean you can order me around like Ron does." Ginny laughed.

"Like Ron _tries_ to do." Harry corrected, bringing more laughter from Ginny. She'd forgotten how much fun Harry could be.

"That's not the point. The point is you are not to go bossing me around because you're older and Ron's best friend and-"

"Quidditch captain?" Harry supplied, smirking.

Ginny stuck out her tongue childishly at Harry. "And certainly not because you're Quidditch captain." Ginny said, grinning as Harry pretended to look affronted.

"Well excuse me Miss Weasley." He huffed, and whirled around, flouncing quite hysterically out of the common room in his Quidditch gear, oblivious to the looks his prancing walk was earning him from the other students in Gryffindor common room, who were seriously questioning his sexual preferences.

Ginny laughed and ducked back into her room to grab her broom.

"Christ, Harry!" Ginny groaned some two hours later. Harry (as captain) had made this particular practice excruciatingly long and quite the work-out. The entire Gryffindor team was rubbing their sore backsides as Harry lead them into the locker room. Ginny sat gingerly, resting her head back on the wall.

Everyone else looked equally tired and worn-out. Harry, however disheveled he may have appeared otherwise, was glowing with pride. "Excellent practice today, team. Looks like we'll be ready for Slytherin this weekend." He beamed.

Ron (who had hurried onto the pitch ten minutes late looking rather ruffled) scoffed. "Not if I can't block those curved throws." He growled. He'd had quite a bit of difficulty with that, but he was actually turning out to be quite the keeper, though certainly no replacement for Oliver Wood.

Harry turned to grin at his best mate. "Don't worry, Ron. You'll do fine. Better than that cow Parkinson will do. Malfoy has got to be insane for choosing her as keeper this year, even if their old one did graduate." He shook his head.

Dean laughed. "Not like I'd want to know what she had to do to get on the team." He pulled a face and laughed again. Everyone else laughed except for Ron and Ginny (neither had ever told Harry about her incident with Dean).

"Wouldn't you?" Ginny spat icily, standing and surprising everyone but her brother. Dean bit his lip and looked away. Ginny scowled and stormed off. She needed a cold shower, and Harry's little team talk didn't even touch at her conscience.

Harry watched his best Chaser stalk out of the locker room, banging the door shut and turned to Dean. "What was that all about?" He asked, green eyes large behind his glasses. "I know Ginny and Malfoy are going out and all, but that was a bit of an over-reaction. Dean was just joking, right, mate?" He questioned the dark boy, who simply shrugged.

Ron hissed in disbelief and anger, directed at Dean. Harry caught the look, but let it go. It was not worth getting his team broken up. But later, Ron would do some serious explaining. Ginny as well.

"Right, great practice team." He said achingly and with a few more words ushered his team back to the Gryffindor common room. He stayed behind after everyone else had gone off to put the balls away.

As he was about to open to door to leave, he heard (or rather, felt) a thud against the wall, coming from the other side. Inching the door open, he peeked out. Just to his right in his line of vision, was Ron, holding someone up against the wall, looking more murderous than Harry had ever seen him.

"Leave her alone." Harry heard in a voice that had to be Ron's, but was so menacing and dangerous. "You don't mess with her, you don't tease her, you don't talk about her, or even Malfoy while she's with him, and you certainly don't talk to her. You were my mate, Dean. But I won't hesitate to rip your head off if you hurt her again."

Releasing the other boy's robes, the fuming red-head strode off, much like his sister had a few minutes earlier. Shaking his head as Dean left, Harry exited the locker room. Serious explanations.

"Oh dear gods." Harry sat back in his seat, leaning heavily back into the soft armchair. His head was reeling and he felt faintly dizzy, as nothing would stay completely still in his line of vision, no matter how much he chased it with his eyes. He pulled off his glasses and closed his eyes, rubbing them gently as Ron also sat back, looking weary. Ginny was standing off to the side, hugging herself and trying to stop crying. Hermione was standing next to the younger and more distressed red-head, rubbing her back absent-mindedly, her moist brown eyes large and round.

"Why didn't either of you tell us?" Harry asked finally, sitting back up and replacing his glasses to stare at the brother and sister, who exchanged a glance. Ginny was the one to speak. "I didn't even know that Ron knew…I thought Heather was the only one who knew. If it hadn't been for her seeing it with her own eyes, I probably never would have told her. I didn't want anyone to know…I was just scared and I thought that perhaps I had done something wrong, and that was why he…" She trailed off, tears blurring her vision again. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

Ron picked up where she stopped. "Heather told me because she was afraid that Dean might try something else. I didn't want to tell you or Hermione because…well, it was Ginny's business. I didn't want to interfere." Ginny shot him a look that was half disbelieving scorn, half grateful thanks.

Harry nodded, as if in understanding, though he still understood very little. He and Dean weren't the best of friends, but he had always thought the guy had been an O.K. man. Then again, he'd never thought he'd see the day that Malfoy was not only civil to, but in love with a Gryffindor. And Malfoy was most obviously head over heels for Ginny, though Harry didn't think she knew exactly just how much the pale boy did care for her.

But still…Dean? If Harry thought about it hard, he guessed he could see it. Dean had a very short temper and was prone to fistfights and scuffles and skirmishes of all sorts with anyone. Sometimes he just lost his head, and with it, his control. And he'd always had a thing about girls. Too possessive and overbearing, Harry thought.

Sighing, the dark-haired boy leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. He was still in his Quidditch getup; the second he'd gotten into Gryffindor tower he'd sought out both Ginny and Ron (who had been talking to Hermione, and therefore the older bushy-haired witch had come along to their little 'meeting') and pulled the story from both of them.

Now he was beginning to wish he hadn't. He spared a glance at Ginny, who was taking advantage of Hermione's support and resting her head wearily on the Head Girl's shoulder.

Ginny was rather peeved at Harry for dragging the ordeal she'd managed to put behind her out in the open again. But she was also mildly appreciative that he had, and that he and Hermione were there to talk to her. The only person who Ginny had known to be aware of her predicament was Heather, and Ginny never spoke of it, though Heather had tried several times to integrate it into a normal conversation.

Ginny was a little apprehensive that Hermione, being Head Girl and all, might want to tell the teachers about it, but so far, the normally do-gooding witch was keeping silent, and holding her tongue, for which Ginny was inexplicably grateful.

Ginny exhaled suddenly and loudly, drawing the attention of the other three. "This has been impossibly exhausting. I'm going to go take a shower and go to bed…" She trailed off, remembering those words to be similar to the ones she'd spoken to Dean right before…

Shaking her head softly, she hugged Hermione briefly and tightly. Ron and Harry stood. Ginny smiled tiredly, giving Ron a large bear hug. Her brother hugged her back tightly, which surprised her somewhat. Finally disentangling herself from her brother, she turned to Harry, who looked down ashamedly. Ginny grinned and wrapped her arms around him in a hug that can only be described as friendly, though from the stop in conversation in the rest of the common room, it was apparently seen as a tad more than 'friendly'.

Ginny didn't care; it felt so good to hug Harry as she would her brother that nothing and no one else mattered. Saying her goodnights, she went off to bed. There was still one hell of a long week to finish.


	20. Get Off my Leg!

**Author's Note:** Chapter 20. Gods, it's long! I had to cut it short; this isn't even the whole original chapter 20. But it makes sense and hooray. Um...to **Moonlight Princess**, thanks for your consistant reviews, and as to Dean...payback's coming! Dirty, rotten filty son-of-a-bi-i-i-scuit maker! Yes, a biscuit maker. So, um... to ** Tara and Brin )**, here's the Quidditch you asked for. Sorry if it's not that good, I've never written Quidditch before. And YES! The dance IS coming up soon, dammit! Read and ejoy!

**Disclaimer:** not mine, unless it is.

* * *

****

**Dancing Life **

**Chapter 20: Get Off my Leg!**

* * *

Much to Ginny's relief, the rest of the week went on with little or no interference or problems. She knew that people were still wondering about her and Draco, but at least they weren't talking about it all over the place. Oh the Slytherins (especially Pansy and her crowd) were giving her a tough time, that was to be expected. But the Gryffindors (true to their ways) were taking it all very well, and some even bothered to be nice to Draco and include him in their activities.

There were still a few who needed convincing, but everyone that Ginny would have wanted to be understanding was. Lavendar Brown and Pavarti Patil were none too happy with Ginny, and were spiteful enough to try to make something of the hug Ginny had given Harry, but neither had made any progress; everyone could see (even if they didn't like it) that Draco was completely besotted with Ginny, and vice versa.

But for the most part, life was being kind to Ginevra Weasley for once.

Saturday and the big match with Slytherin approached quickly, and before she knew it, Ginny was pulling on her light beige Quidditch trousers, scarlet and gold shirt, and matching robes.

Standing in front of her mirror, Ginny smiled at her reflection for the first time in a long while. She had to admit, she did look pretty fair in her Quidditch gear. The pants made her long, thin legs look longer and more shapely, and the tall brown boots she was pulling on only enhanced the effect. The shirt didn't do much, but the robes made her look sleek and lithe, something she very rarely felt herself to be.

Ginny thought of how Draco would look in his Quidditch attire. Even before they'd 'met' each other, she'd noticed just how good he looked in his clothes. The Quidditch outfit was practically made for people like Draco and Ginny; the tall, thin kind. Harry and Ron looked alright, but Draco and Ginny looked absolutely comfortable and at ease.

Brushing back her hair, she could see her cheeks reddening in the mirror. "Y'look good, girlie." Her mirror-self commented dryly. "Got a date or sumfin'?" Ginny flamed even more and turned away from the mirror to pull on her arm- and knee-braces.

Taking a quick glance at the clock hovering over her bed, she figured she had quite a few minutes to spare; she wanted a brief word with Draco before the game, as she hadn't seen him since Thursday. Well, _really_ see him, that is.

"Mustn't keep your young man waiting!" The mirror cackled, and Ginny made a very rude gesture behind her back as she set off, broom over her shoulder and whistling happily.

Draco Malfoy was furious. Very furious. And that was not a good thing for the health of those around him. He was already decked out in his Quidditch kit (looking better than ever, as Ginny had noticed during the previous game against Hufflepuff) and striding darkly down the corridors.

_Potter._ His brain hissed scathingly as he kicked at a stone statue, which glared stonily (pun intended) at him, hollering: "Watcher', you!"

Of course he was in a foul mood; the first thing he'd heard stepping into the Great Hall were the disgustingly audible words of those two Gryffindor cats: Patil and Brown.

"-can you believe it? I mean, really!"

"-I know. And I thought she was happy with Malfoy."

"-guess she just wanted Harry all along then."

"-yeah, but what a low way of going about it! All that hugging and kissing…poor Malfoy. He'll be so upset when he hears…"

Draco had whirled right around and strode from the Great Hall, his face a mask, belying the torrent of raging emotions cascading through him. So of course, he'd missed the looks the two girls had sent him, and then glanced satisfactorily between each other, smirking meanly.

He found Harry, not ten minutes later, while his rage was still white-hot. The good-looking Quidditch Captain was just rounding the corner that lead to the Gryffindor commons when without a word or any acknowledgement, Draco walked up to him and grabbed his Quidditch robes, shoving him none-too-delicately into the wall behind him.

Harry winced as his back struck wall, taking him a few seconds to realize that Draco was actually holding him off the ground! Harry reached up and shoved down the strong arm that was holding him up.

Draco allowed the arm to be lowered, but moved his hand to Harry's neck. Harry glanced down at the hand, the long pale fingers wrapping around his throat.

"Nice to see you too, Draco. How are things, eh?" Harry joked, wondering what in hell could have gotten the pale boy so flustered. At that moment (though Draco didn't know it) he looked positively agonized. He was in pain, and he was angry, that much was obvious, but what about?

Draco snarled, shoving Harry harder against the wall. "Has she been messing with me? Eh? Tell me Potter, or I won't wait for the Quidditch game to beat you into the dirt. What's going on between you two?"

To Harry's immense shock, Draco seemed to break down. His voice wavered, and his hand around Harry's throat trembled violently. Harry's eyes widened with enlightenment. Partial enlightenment, that is.

"Jesus Ma-Draco." He corrected. "You…you-_love_ her…don't you?" He gaped as the older and taller boy released his grip on Harry and pushed away from him. He turned to the opposite wall in the narrow hallway and leaned his head against the cool stone.

Harry edged closer hesitantly. "For how long?" He asked. Draco let out a shaky breath, almost a laugh. "Who knows, eh? Maybe from the very beginning. I was just too much of a dolt to see it." He shook his head regretfully.

"Just tell me, what's going on between you two? Gods, don't you know I've given this thought. She'd be so much happier with you than she could be with me; she loved you first, for six years. You're famous Potter, so tragic, so heroic, so _perfect_. Everything I can't be." The words that used to be spoken with hatred, spat out like something vile you happen to get caught in your mouth; were now spoken softly, with more hurt and pain than Harry had thought possible for the cool Slytherin. It was something close to the pain he felt for his parents, for Sirius. It was genuine agony as only they knew it.

"You really do love her." He said again, almost to himself.

Draco scoffed and stood, pushing away from the wall again to merely stare intensely at it. "What do people like you and me know of love? We're just kids, that's all." Harry had the sudden impression that he wasn't referring to himself and Harry as 'we', but as himself and Ginny.

"I know one thing: and that is that I care for her more than I've cared for anyone else in my entire life. Short though it may be, that's saying something. Much as I wish it were otherwise, I am a Malfoy. And Malfoys don't love easily. If they do love at all, they love just one thing. For my father it was power, for my mother; wealth. For me, it's Ginevra."

Harry's jaw had dropped by now at this confession. _Why the hell couldn't Ginny have been here to hear this? _He thought to himself.

Draco seemed to catch himself. He turned to Harry and frowned. "You still haven't answered my question…what is going on between you and Ginevra Weasley?"

Harry couldn't hold back a laugh. "Absolutely nothing. I've no idea where you got the notion, but let me tell you something, Draco. Any man who dares to get involved with Ginny now is insane. She's yours, just as you are hers. Everyone can see that. The blokes see it, and they stay far away from her unless they're good friends. No one wants to anger you." He said the last with a grin, as Draco's handiwork on himself would probably leave just a few bruises.

Draco pulled away, slightly taken aback. Gods, was he that obvious? Yeah, he was infatuated with the little red-headed Gryffindor, but did _everyone_ know it?

Shaking himself a little, he turned back to his oldest enemy, who was beginning to look more and more (he shuddered at the thought) like his friend. And Draco had very few of those.

Harry steeled himself as Draco turned those piercing, searching cold silver eyes on him, as if looking for a lie hidden beneath the seemingly friendly, joking words. Harry supposed that if he'd never had real friends, he wouldn't be so trusting either. Damn Ginny! Why did she have to be so…good, and…forgiving, and…damn her!

"She's not pining after you, then?" Draco asked suspiciously. Harry had to fight to hold back a grin. This was hardly a ghost of the arrogant, confident young prat he'd met seven years ago. Funny, he'd never thought of Draco and uncertainty together before, but he looked absolutely and naturally insecure right now. All over Ginny.

"No, mate. She's all yours. I'm surprised she hasn't told you that yet. She's just as crazy about you as you are of her." The boy's words (which had been true enough) were astoundingly reassuring and comforting.

"She is?" Draco managed. For quite a while, he'd been obsessed with Ginny, but never thought she thought much of him. He thought she just sort of liked him with that naïve, childish puppy-love her type was so prone to.

Harry laughed out loud at that. It took quite a few moments for him to stop. Wiping a tear from beneath his glasses, he simmered down to a chuckle. "Are you blind, man? She's absolutely in love. Sickening, if you ask me. Mad about you, she is." He nodded once.

Draco's hoary eyes widened slightly, but other than that, he managed to hide his shock. He was…loved? Really and truly loved? It was quite a new experience. And girls like Ginny Weasley usually had a lot of love to give.

Suddenly, his eyes hardened, narrowing again. "Then what is this I hear about you two holding each other in the Gryffindor common room?" He growled. Harry looked faintly puzzled. "Holding each other? What, you mean like a hug?" he asked, seemingly blasé and casual.

Draco nodded, only once. "Heard it from a pair of Gryffindors. Those two cats…eh…Brown and Party…Paint…Patil…something like that." He shrugged, names temporarily eluding him. Well, perhaps not temporarily…but who cared to learn the names of other housemates? And certainly not Gryffindors…unless they happened to be slender and sharp red-heads named Ginny Weasley, that is…

Harry's jaw squared, and he looked vaguely ruffled. "Yeah, well…not all Gryffindors are such honest and truthful people." He muttered, thinking about several different curses. Draco's slim eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Erm…yes, well…that still doesn't explain the 'hugging thing'. Or was that just the ravings of a pair of dishonest liars?" he smirked. Harry grinned up at him boyishly. "Not to speak ill of my housemates, but…" he shrugged, glancing up at the ceiling innocently, whistling to some unknown tune. "Ginny and I hug occasionally…now that she's gotten over her crush on me" here he looked down, cheeks going a little pink "we can go back to acting like sister and brother. Not that she needs anymore, mind you." His eyes widened slightly, and he stilled momentarily. "Oh…" he mused, with the air of one reaching enlightenment.

"Um…I think that whole 'hugging' ordeal was from Wednesday. Er…Ginny was having a rough day, because De-" Harry dropped off, shutting his mouth abruptly. He'd promised he wouldn't say anything. He would _not_ say anything.

Draco sensed something. "Wha-a-a-a-a-t?" He asked, long and drawn out, almost warningly. Harry avoided his gaze, glancing up and down, and around the hallway, anywhere but Draco's inescapable eyes. As their description goes, he could not escape the two mercury slits, as they were now, glowering at him.

"What is it? Why was Ginny having a tough day? Was someone bothering her? And why didn't she come talk to me?" He mused, almost to himself.

Harry bit his lip. Draco was forward and on him in a second. "What?" He demanded, bringing his hand up to Harry's throat again.

Somehow sensing (most intelligently) that this was a bit of a dangerous topic with Draco, Harry told him all the events that lead up to their little brotherly/sisterly embrace; from the incident when Ginny was fourteen to the scene in the locker room.

Afterwards Harry realized just how stupid he was, and exactly what Hermione had been trying to tell him for the past seven years: he was an idiot. A first-class idiot.

Draco's eyes were flashing precariously as he let Harry go. "I see." He said, in a low, calm voice; half-whispered. "I have to go. See you at Quidditch, then…" He said in a monotone, staring off over Harry's shoulder. Harry, by and by, was thinking something along the lines of _"HOLY FUCKING SHIT! THE WEASLEYS ARE GOING TO KILL M_E!" Or something along those lines…

As Draco moved off, Harry waited for a second before dashing off as fast as he could to head Draco off. He had to find either Dean, Ron, or Ginny, and fast. Either that or hide in a broom closet until the obligatory female Weasley temper tantrum was over, or until she'd run out of blunt objects to throw…

Ginny was humming pleasantly to herself. She'd gotten more Queen in her head, and it really was a pity that she didn't have her PBE box with her, because she simply couldn't remember the lines to Killer Queen. What were they?

As she sat at the Gryffindor table, not really touching her toast and eggs, pondering the lyrics to the Muggle song, Harry rushed up to her, panting like a wounded rhinoceros. Ginny looked up. "What?" she asked. Or rather, she meant to ask, only it came out more like "Dynamite with a laser beam?" Harry stared at her oddly.

"What?" she amended, pushing the song from her mind.

"Erm…how badly would you torture me if I accidentally let it slip to Malfoy your whole fiasco with Dean?"

Ginny's eyes flashed. "Would you prefer me to kill you instead? Because what you're proposing would cost you more pain than can be expected in an opera performed by Snape and Hagrid." Harry winced. "That bad, eh?" He managed to say around the lump in his throat.

Ginny was glaring daggers at him. She glanced quickly down the table. Dean was sitting at the far end, talking to Lavendar and Pavarti, dressed in his Quidditch robes. Ginny turned back to Harry, resuming her death glare. "Dean seems to be in one piece so far. If you keep an eye on him and one out for Draco, I think we can handle this until I get a chance to talk to him." She jerked her head at Harry, is if trying to nod without going into a fit of spasms.

She looked back down determinedly at her eggs, and Harry would have sworn that she fried them with her stare. Hastily retreating behind the safety of Ron and Hermione just down the bench, Harry shivered. He would not want to get in her way on the Quidditch pitch today.

Most surprisingly, Draco did not make his much awaited and feared appearance to pound the life out of Dean. Harry and Ginny passed a confused glance as he called the team together to leave for the game.

In the locker room, after the de rigueur pre-game speech given by Harry, Ginny finally got a hold of him and pulled him aside with about five minutes to spare before the game. "You haven't seen him, have you?" She asked him in whispers.

Harry shook his head. "Not since I spoke to him." He winced slightly. Ginny shook her head as well. "I don't like this, Harry. I don't like this at all. Draco's not the type to let something like this go. I'm afraid he's going to try something in the game."

"Do you think we should tell Dean?" Harry asked, looking over to the tall dark Beater. Ginny followed him gaze reluctantly. "As much as I'd rather not, I suppose he should know."

Harry nodded and moved off to whisper something in Dean's ear. After a second the boy straightened, frowning slightly, but not looking (unwisely in Ginny's opinion) too frazzled.

Madame Hooch knocked loudly on the door to the locker room. "Potter-time!" She yelled, voice sharp and impatient. Harry gathered his team together with a quick wave. "Alright team…we've gone over plays and strategies. Now it's time for you to forget it all and go play your best the way you know how!"

Everyone cheered loudly at this and they all headed out, brooms over shoulder, to the Quidditch pitch. Several minutes later, they were on their brooms and hovering in the air, awaiting Madame Hooch's beginning of the game warnings before she let the balls out.

"No foul stuff this game…especially you Mr. Goyle. I don't want to have to send anyone down to the hospital wing this game, so keep it clean."

Goyle (a Beater with a nasty habit of aiming for people's heads) snorted and nodded, turning to Draco. Ginny's eyes fell on him and she bit her lip. He was fuming. You'd never be able to tell unless you knew him. His face was impassive and bland, almost bored. But his eyes…those grey windows to a world battling of dark and light…that's where Ginny saw it. Darkness was winning right now, and Dean's future wasn't looking too promising.

Her eyes moved along the Slytherins and came to Blaise, her opposing Chaser. She gave him a curt nod and a questioning glance aimed at Draco. Blaise shrugged almost imperceptibly and frowned. Ginny tilted her head up in a quick nod.

No, things definitely weren't going well for Dean.

Ginny spared a glance at the Gryffindor Beater. He was currently pulling faces at Madame Hooch and the Slytherins. Ginny rolled her eyes. Perhaps Draco's fury wasn't such a bad thing…

A flash of gold in front of her eyes signaled that Madame Hooch had released the Snitch. It took a moment's restraint not to reach out and grab the tiny, flitting ball. Her one season as Seeker had left some instinctual impulses in her, and it took a second for her to remember that she was a Chaser.

The ball she was interested in was just being released. She tensed, waiting for Madame Hooch to toss it up. Once the silver-haired witch let the large red ball up, the game began.

One of the Slytherin Chasers, a fifth year named Armand Devalgile snagged the Quaffle. The game was on. Ginny spared a glance at Natalie and Seamus, her fellow Chasers. Seamus gave a quick hand signal, Ginny nodded and sped off after the smaller Slytherin boy with Seamus at her heels while Natalie dropped lower and followed them unnoticed.

Ginny flattened herself over her broom handle and sped towards the somewhat inexperienced boy, coming up on his left while (from the corner of her eye) she saw Seamus coming up on his right, just inches above him.

Ginny swerved suddenly, coming to within a foot of Devalgile. Keeping her left hand firmly steering her broom, she reached out for the Quaffle. The callow boy pulled the red ball from her grasp, out to his right, where Seamus immediately popped it from his loose grasp unexpectedly.

All three Gryffindor Chasers turned abruptly and headed the other way. Goyle aimed a Bludger at Seamus, who had time enough to toss the Quaffle to Ginny before diving out of the arena to avoid the hurtling ball of pain.

Tucking the Quaffle under her arm, Ginny raced to the Slytherin goals. Pansy was hovering in front of the center one. Ginny glanced down. Natalie was right under her. Ginny looked up and straight at Pansy, catching her eye.

Not breaking eye contact, Ginny dropped the ball below her to Natalie covertly, still barreling at Pansy. The Slytherin Keeper was too busy watching Ginny's eyes (for indication of where she was aiming) to immediately realize that she no longer had the Quaffle. It wasn't until Natalie popped up at her right and chucked the Quaffle through the right hoop that Pansy realized where the red ball was. Too late.

Ginny cheered and circled back around with Natalie in a victorious fashion. Gareth Apelby (a Ravenclaw fourth year and Lee Jordan's successor) yelled excitedly into the enchanted microphone. "McDonald scores! Excellent play there by the Gryffindor Chasers. Gryffindor leads ten to nil."

Ginny's eyes scanned the pitch for Draco. He was back by the Gryffindor goal. No…scratch that…he was back by Dean! Following him closely. He was getting closer as well…

Grunting in aggravation, Ginny flew over to where the platinum Slytherin was stealthily approaching the Gryffindor Beater, who was currently slamming a Bludger away from Ron.

Just as Draco edged in closer to the unsuspecting dark boy, Ginny veered in front of him, behind the oblivious Dean. Draco stopped, glaring over Ginny's shoulder. Ginny shook her head once. "Don't." She said warningly, giving him a look that promised explanations later.

With that she flew off and Draco descended to search for the snitch, though his eyes never really left Dean's form…

After that warning, Ginny became immersed in the game. Twenty minted later the score was fifty to twenty, in favor of Gryffindor. Ron had made some excellent saves, at least more than Pansy had…though she really was a quite decent Keeper.

Catching the Quaffle that Natalie tossed her way, Ginny flew on, narrowly avoiding Blaise, who reached out to grab the Quaffle. She managed to loop him and come up just to the left of Pansy. She aimed plainly for the left hoop and then feinted to the right at the last second, lobbing it into the right hoop.

"Gryffindor in the lead, sixty to twenty with another score by Weasley!" Apelby cheered along with the rest of the crowd.

Ginny punched the air victoriously. But as she headed back to Gryffindor's side, a sudden flash of green below her caught her eye…which widened with it's mate.

In the thrill of the score, it seemed that Draco had grabbed Dean and pulled him down. This was evident because of the fact that Draco was still latched onto Dean's leg, puling him half off his broom. In fact, the Gryffindor Beater was only still on his broom by the crook of one knee.

Ginny dove. If Draco didn't stop he'd do something stupid, like cost him a penalty, or get someone hurt…or not so bad, get Dean hurt. She dove anyway, coming up just above the two struggling boys.

Draco's face was livid as he yanked harder. "Think you can get away with hurting her, eh? If I'd known…" He trailed off, looking even more murderous as he tugged viciously on Dean's suffering limb.

"Get off my leg!" Dean yelled, fighting to stay on his broom.

"Fat chance. I swear, I'll rip you apart…I'll knock you off your broom…I'll bury your face in the next Bludger that comes along…I'll beat you in the bullocks with Goyle's beater's bat! You'd never look at another girl again then, would you?" He hissed.

"What makes you thing you're even allowed to be near her, let alone touch her?" He growled, pulling harder.

"Get off my-y-y leg!" Dean cried as he slipped further off his broom so that he was clutching to stay on, his knee hooked on the broom practically in his face.

"You're going to wish you'd never messed with Ginevra Weasley, you slimy piece of-"

"DRACO!"

Draco glanced up, his eyes wide and startled. While the rest of the game was going on above their heads (in fact, Natalie and Seamus were going in to score without Ginny), they were suspended in time and air.

Ginny flew down to where Dean was still putting his best efforts into getting back on his broom. Difficult, as Draco was still grasping his leg. "Geroff my leg!" Dean mumbled, heaving himself half-way on his broom.

Ginny flew up to Dean and (grasping his robes) hauled him up on his broom, Draco's hand finally relinquishing his hold. Dean quickly shot away, looking behind him with trepidation.

Ginny's eyes were flashing as she looked at Draco, her mouth slightly open. Draco had to look away, feeling completely ashamed at her obvious disappointment in him.

"Draco, what were you thinking?" Ginny finally managed.

Draco mumbled something under his breath. Then his head snapped up and within seconds he was inches from her, his face tight and pulled in anger. "Why didn't you tell me he tried to practically rape you? What if he'd tried to do it again? You should have told me, Ginny."

Ginny shook her head. "This was in my fourth year. He's not tried anything since, and I didn't even tell my own effing brother." Her eyes glittered with hurt. How could he think she didn't trust him, or didn't care enough?

Draco's eyes widened and he backed up a bit. "Potter knew all about it, though." He spat. "So you told him, then?"

Ginny ignited in flames. Or so it seemed to Draco, who was taken aback by the sudden change. Her eyes flashed amber, almost gold, like some fire that leapt up from the raging flame inside her that was lighting up her cheeks with a pretty pink color. Even her hair seemed to glow redder.

"I DIDN'T FUCKING TELL HARRY ON MY OWN ACCORD!" She screeched, eyes squeezing shut and her vocal chords vibrating until they were raw. She opened her eyes again. They were smoldering with color and fever.

"Ron found out from Heather a while back –BECAUSE HE'S MY BROTHER-" She yelled suddenly "and then apparently Harry saw Ron trying to scare the shit out of Dean after practice. So he came and found me, and…well, now you, Heather, Hermione, Ron, and Harry know."

Her eyes flashed again suddenly. "And anyways, I wouldn't have told you if I'd known you were going to try to kill Dean." She accused suddenly. She started when Apelby shouted into her thoughts.

"Gryffindor scores! A nice play by Finnegan and McDonald, but where's the other Chaser, I wonder?"

"Shit." Ginny muttered, pulling up her broom. She threw Draco a look over her shoulder. "Don't try anything else…you and I are going to have a serious talk after the game. Meet me out by the lake around two." She turned, shaking her head as she rose to meet her fellow Chasers.

A green figure suddenly swerved in front of her. Ginny pulled to a stop. "Blaise? What?"

The dark older boy looked over her shoulder, probably at where Draco was steaming. He turned back to Ginny. "You alright? I was afraid Draco would try something…he was storming around the locker room angrier than I've ever seen him." He shook his head wearily.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just keep an eye on him…I'm afraid he's going to try to do something to Dean…Thomas." She jerked her head in Dean's direction. Blaise nodded and waved off.

Ginny pulled her broom up again. Devalgile (the Slytherin Chaser) had the Quaffle, and was smirking nastily as Natalie had to swerve off course to avoid a Bludger and Seamus was far behind, trying to catch up.

Of course, he had forgotten about Ginny…

Ginny came up underneath him. The Quaffle was tucked under one arm, and not clutched to his chest as it should have been. Suddenly, Ginny shot up like a rocket, punching the red ball up from out of his grasp and catching it in midair, turning in an about-face and tearing down the field.

Seamus was already down there, and Natalie was catching up. Blaise rose up in front of Ginny in a blocking maneuver. She tossed the Quaffle to Seamus over Blaise's head and looped under him, something she wouldn't have been able to do so easily with a Quaffle under her arm.

With Seamus now in possession of the Quaffle, Ginny and Natalie sped positions flanking him on either side. There was only one other Chaser and a Beater in between the three Gryffindors and Pansy.

Seamus steadily approached the Chaser (Davis or something) and passed the Quaffle on to Natalie's waiting hands before circling around the Slytherin Chaser several times, becoming just a blur of scarlet that made the younger Chaser quite dizzy and disoriented.

Natalie sped on, going in for the goal when Crabbe came out of nowhere, belting a Bludger at her chest. Screeching, Natalie ducked and rolled over on her broom, hooking her legs around the handle to stay on, nearly dropping the Quaffle.

Ginny veered off immediately, coming underneath the younger Chaser again. "Natalie!" She shouted. The young girl glanced up (or, down rather) and nodded, letting the Quaffle drop right into Ginny's expecting grasp.

While the younger girl managed to right herself, Ginny sped on towards the goal. Seamus was now on her right, and made a quick gesture to Ginny, who nodded and sped on. Pansy rushed out to meet her, cutting off her shot.

Ginny feinted to the left, tossing the Quaffle to Seamus. When Pansy turned to him, he tossed the Quaffle back to Ginny. Before Pansy had time to turn to the red-headed Chaser, Ginny had risen and flung the Quaffle just through the left hoop, eliciting more cheers from the crowd. Gryffindor hadn't done so well against Slytherin in ages!

Ginny turned back around, smiling widely. In a few minutes, the Slytherin Chasers were barreling down the field towards the Gryffindor goal. Natalie and Seamus sped towards them, setting up for a blocking strategy.

Ginny glanced around hurriedly. Harry was still up high above the game, searching for the Snitch, which had been frightfully elusive. And Draco…

She glanced around hurriedly. All eyes were on the battling Chasers and a couple of Beaters down at the Gryffindor end. All except fro Ginny's.

Then she saw it. Dean was high above, hitting a Bludger away from Harry. Draco was also up there, avoiding a Bludger that Crabbe nearly hit him with. She could see him berating the Slytherin Beater from the corner of her eye as Harry suddenly dove, a flash of gold just ahead of him.

Draco never had a chance. It took a mere minute for Harry to loop around under the Snitch and catch the fluttering gold ball in his hand, raising it above his head victoriously.

What happened in the following few seconds as the Gryffindor team came up to circle Harry in embraces and cheers, Ginny wasn't really sure, as it happened so fast. She saw Draco fly over and snatch Crabbe's Beater's bat from him.

His eyes were glinting maliciously, aimed at Dean, who wasn't paying attention as he watched the rest of his team hugging and cheering. A Bludger came his way, which he trapped with Crabbe's bat.

In that second, Ginny realized what he was going to do. She flattened herself over her broom and sped towards Dean.

"DEAN!" she shouted, trying to get his attention. He turned towards her just as Draco smacked the Bludger right at Dean's head. He wouldn't even know what hit him. Ginny raced past Dean and set herself in front of Dean, having just enough time to brace herself before the big black ball hit her hard, glancing painfully off her ribs.


	21. Skye: Someone to Look Up to

**Author's Note:** Okay, here it is, chapter 22. I was originally going to leave the story at that last chapter for a while, just to piss everyone off. But my guilty conscience (and ridiculous ego) made me think people actually like my story, so I'm putting up his chapter since I already wrote it. It's not that great, but I hope you like it. And to **Angelgrl185; **your review is greatly appreciated, since it actually fulfills that intended purpose of a review: provides the author with constructive criticism and advice on how to better their writing. I realize that I am no real writer, but I try, and I appreciate your help, as I do realize my descriptions are uniform and uninteresting. Next story, I'll work on it. THANKS!! Here we go...

**Disclaimer:** Um...really, I have no idea where this came from...it's not mine. Well, except for the little baggie labelled 'plot'. And the other one...'O.C.'s'. The rest belongs to...erm...eh...J...er...K...uh...Rowling! Yes, her.

* * *

**Dancing Life **

**Chapter 21: Skye: Someone To Look Up To.**

* * *

"Aaaahhh!" Ginny screamed in anguish, feeling several bones breaking in her chest. Behind her she heard an echoing scream that had to belong to Dean. Bludger must've hit him anyway. 

Ginny struggled to stay on her broom, eyes shut tightly.

"Ginny!" she heard Draco's voice, worried and frightened coming closer. She felt his presence next to her before she heard him.

Ginny's arm was wrapped around her ribs, grimacing in the pain that threatened to overwhelm her. She had to get down to the ground before she passed out.

Suddenly, she felt a lancing, biting white pain strike her side as Draco touched her tentatively. "Aaaaagggghhhhhh!" she screamed, louder than she'd screamed the first time. Now the pain was severe and on-going.

She turned suddenly on her broom, managing to pry open her eyes. She loved to be around Draco and all, and yes, he was comforting, but she really just had to get down on firm land before she fell off her broom. Turning her broom nose down, she dove.

The ground was swimming as it came closer and closer to her. And then suddenly she was off her broom and face-down in the grass, not a good thing for her ribs, which were screaming angrily.

No one noticed her. Madame Hooch was carrying something or someone off the pitch in the corner of her line of foggy vision. The Gryffindors were all watching Hooch go and following at a close rate. The Slytherins were behind the Gryffindors, some still landing. She didn't see Draco, so he had to still be up in the air.

Ginny was able to get shakily to her feet, clutching at her ribs. She just had to get to the common room. Just get to the common room. Just…get…

She stumbled all the way back to the castle, pausing once to throw up her breakfast from the morning, which did nothing to ease the pain in her side. She finally staggered into the castle, just beyond the Great Hall.

Finally, she couldn't walk anymore. She fell in a heap at the foot of the stairs, so tires and exhausted from walking all the way back with either cracked or broken ribs. Breathing heavily, she sat for a few moments, drinking in air and willing herself to stand.

She finally managed to bring herself to her feet again, though it took several minutes.

Thirty minutes later, she stumbled, gasping, into the Gryffindor common room. Hermione and Ron were on her in a second.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"We were worried that something might have happened…"

"Where were you on the field?"

"Are you alright?"

Ginny shook her head as she collapsed onto the nearest armchair, hissing at the stinging pain in her side. Hermione latched onto this. "Ginny, what's wrong with your side?" She reached out a hand and touched Ginny's left rib. Immediately the younger girl bit her lip and let out a whimper, trying not to scream again.

Hermione's eyes widened and she reached down, pulling up Ginny's shirt.

"Oh, dear gods." She breathed, a hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock.

Ginny looked down and felt like she was going to be sick. Her entire left side in the shape of a large circle was a mass of purple and blue, destined to turn black and ugly. Ginny sucked in a breath with some difficulty; every breath that expanded her lungs bit into her side painfully.

Ron's eyes were large. "Gins, what happened?" He asked softly, eyes riveted on the purple bruise. Ginny laughed softly, but sobered up immediately…laughing was painful, too.

"Got in the way of a very urgent Bludger." She shrugged.

"Ginny, we've got to get you down to the hospital wing immediately. What if you broke something?"

Ginny nearly laughed at the Head Girl. _More than just a little likely._ She thought sardonically.

Instead, she just shook her head and stood, careful not to grimace or wince. "I'm fine, just a little tender. I'll patch myself up, and if it gets worse I'll go to Madame Pomfrey." She promised, heading off to her room.

She had some serious healing to do.

Draco was really pissed. Scared, anxious, nervous, and scared for Ginny…but nonetheless pissed. He was currently stomping around the deserted Slytherin common room in a fit while Blaise watched on slightly amused and ready to intervene if Draco looked ready to do some serious damage. Though he knew that this ranting and raving was good to get out of his system.

"Stupid effing…" he heard Draco mutter before slamming his foot into a stone wall. Which was also stupid. Blaise hid a grin as Draco came over to the armchair across from his and sunk down in it, muttering and rubbing his throbbing foot.

"Why the hell did she have to go dive in front of him?" He growled angrily, though Blaise knew better. Draco was mortified that he had in some way hurt Ginny, though he really hadn't meant to. He'd had to listen to Draco going on all day about it. It was evening now, and soon people would be coming back from supper. But not Ginny; she hadn't been in the dining hall, library, or hospital wing. Draco was worried about her, as he was taking it out on his surrounding furniture.

"She's brave, that one." Blaise muttered noncommittally. Like as not, Draco would go into some jealous spit that Ginny still had feelings for Dean. Blaise knew Ginny was just being a Gryffindor. Draco had been aiming for Dean's head after all. Who knows what might have happened if Ginny's hadn't blocked part of the blow? Of course, the Bludger had hit Dean anyways, but only in the chest, Ginny's side preventing it from hitting his head. Madame Hooch had been able to stop the falling boy in mid-air and get him to the hospital wing.

And now Draco was beating himself up for being such an idiot. He hadn't been able to catch up with Ginny, and in the confusion, had lost her altogether. He hadn't seen her since she had fallen onto the pitch and staggered wobbly away.

"You don't think she was trying to protect Thomas, do you?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. _That was unexpected._ He thought caustically.

"Yeah, she was. Apparently they're shag buddies or something. You should see the looks she gives him sometimes." Blaise said steadily as if reading a particularly boring essay.

Draco's silver eyes popped open. "What!" His jaw dropped as Blaise glanced up at him, rolling his deep blue eyes once again. "I'm kidding." He assured his friend. Draco settled back down, calming visibly.

"Draco, she's got eyes for you alone. Though I honestly don't know why, if you act like this all the time. I wouldn't hang around you, that's certain." He scoffed. "Just trust her, mate. After you apologize first, of course."

Draco nodded obediently. Though he'd never let him know, he knew Blaise was right. Damn him. The older blonde boy rose agitatedly and stalked around the common room, running shaking hands through his hair, tangling the usually flawless strands.

Blaise watched this for several moments. "Why don't you go talk to Skye?" He suggested when he finally couldn't take anymore of Draco's pacing.

One slim blonde eyebrow arched. "Why?"

Blaise shrugged. "Because you won't talk to me, I think you need to talk to a woman for this kind of thing, Ginny isn't in the hospital wing so you can't talk to her, and I want to go snog Heather." He said simply and without discomfort.

Draco snorted. "Fine. Take care you and Heather don't go too far, and if you do, keep it out of my room. Don't wait up." He left with a smart wave. Blaise waited for a moment before setting off himself, headed for his room to grab his broom.

Some minutes later Draco was knocking hesitantly on the door to the dance classroom. Ginny had once told him that Skye lived in her classroom, or something like that…besides, he didn't know where else to look.

"One moment please." Skye's voice came from behind the door.

And in about one minute, the door opened to reveal a very dusty-looking Skye. Her brilliant purple hair stood out against the rest of her dust-dulled appearance. "Oh! Draco." She exclaimed, realizing who it was and opening the door wider to let him in.

He quickly entered the classroom and started. Dust was settling in the corners and several small cat-looking creatures which Draco recalled as being called Kneazles were running about the room. Skye shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry about the mess. Jan found a litter of Kneazle kittens in the room where she's lodging at Hogsmeade and she sent them here. I've just had to clean up a bit." She smiled affectionately as one of the little brown kittens leapt up at a piece of dirt that was floating about over it's head.

Draco took this all in and stared uncomfortably around, not really sure what to say. Skye tactfully removed the uneasiness from the atmosphere.

"How is Ginny doing? I didn't see her down at the hospital wing when I went to get the kittens checked this afternoon." She gestured to a seat for Draco to sit down in, as he was currently shifting awkwardly from side to side.

He took the seat graciously, sinking down into it with all the grace and ease that Slytherins seemed to be born with. Skye on the other hand, flung herself animatedly into a bright yellow armchair that contrasted perfectly with her purple hair.

Draco arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. He was watching his young dance teacher with interest as she scooped up a tiny grey-ish colored Kneazle kitten and nuzzle its nose with hers. Draco was beginning to realize that Skye was very much the same kind of girl (young woman really) that Ginny was.

And suddenly, he didn't feel uncomfortable. He didn't worry about why he was talking to this strange witch at night instead of one of his own housemates. He could confide in her, he knew, and even ask her opinions or help or even her advice. He was feeling the pull- the magnetic attraction- that made so many people feel so comfortable in talking to the young witch.

Skye glanced up from the kitten to gaze interestedly and curiously at Draco. "Did you need to talk about something?" She asked inquisitively.

And for some reason unknown to him, Draco broke, and his story came out like water escaping a dam. He talked for many many minutes, telling the purple haired witch all about his life before he'd met Ginny-how his father and mother treated him, and how he'd left with Janet and Blaise, how he never talked to anyone except Blaise occasionally.

He told her how it had been such a surprise that he'd been attracted to Ginny at first in dance class, and an even bigger shock when she kissed him and left, laughing.

He outlined the months they'd spent together so far, how it was perfect and sheer bliss because it was her. When he was with her, nothing else mattered. He explained to Skye the ordeal with Dean, allowing a short period of time for the lively witch to furiously curse Dean Thomas many times in many different languages, using many words that Draco pretended not to hear.

After that was done, he explained what had happened in the game earlier in the game.

"I dunno. I was just so furious that I suppose I wasn't thinking straight…I would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. It killed me so much when she flew in front of that bloody coward. And to know that I hit her…when I c-care for her so much." He managed, nearly at loss for words.

Skye nodded understandingly, still petting her little kitten.

"You know that Ginny won't blame you, right?" She said suddenly.

Draco looked up. "How could she not? I saw her land…she was in real pain, and I don't even know where she is right now. I'm just scared that I've really fucked things up this time."

Skye glanced up at the ceiling, pretending she hadn't heard that. She moved her gaze back to Draco, holding back a grin she was sure he would not appreciate. It was so comical to see a Malfoy in such a tizzy over a girl he was in love with.

She herself had had the unfortunate chance to meet Malfoy Sr. and she honestly hadn't thought anyone with even a drop of his blood, however diluted, could love at all. Funny how wrong you could be sometimes…

She clicked her tongue and set her cat down on the ground, rising from the chair after having sat in it for nearly to hours. "I know a few things about Ginny, and if I'm not being too optimistic about my abilities, I believe I know a few things about you. Aside from that and the fact that you're here worried about her, it's not too difficult to see how much in love you two are. Even for a mature relationship." She gave him a good, long, hard glance.

"You're not just school kids sharing affection. Don't second-guess your feelings. You're two young adults who just happen to have found love before that time when most people do. Hold onto her, Draco. She's worth it…I promise you that."

Without another word she smiled, tipped her head and disappeared into her room, closing the door softly behind her. As Draco left the classroom, he heard strains of some unknown music playing, bright and lively, probably Muggle.

Shaking his head, he closed the heavy door behind him.

What a strange, strange woman…

"Fuck! That hurts!"

"Ginny…-language!"

"Sorry, just trying to put my effing ribs back in place!"

"Well either do it somewhere else or shut up about it!"

Ginny stuck her tongue out at Heather, who was sitting at the foot of her bed and went back to healing her ribs. The minute Heather had found out that Ginny was back, she'd come upstairs to see her. What she'd found was Ginny trying to heal herself completely by herself.

Not that she wasn't good at magic or anything, but fixing one's own internal injuries is quite advanced magic; magic that sixth years were only just diving into. After Ginny's blatant refusals to visit the hospital wing, Heather settled down to help Ginny heal herself.

Ginny began with mending her broken ribs. They counted three of them that were broken, and it took Ginny nearly twenty minutes to fix each one. After the first one, Ginny lowered herself back onto her bed, breathing rather hard. "That was more complicated than I thought!" She exclaimed.

It took her another hour to build up enough strength to move onto the next rib. Heather wasn't able to mend bones yet, but she helped as much as possible; cooling Ginny down and healing some of the simpler cuts and bruises on the older girl's legs and side.

Some hours later, Ginny had finished with her last rib and was attempting on healing the significantly painful bruises that lined her chest and side. Sighing, she fell back upon her pillows, hissing at the pain that shot through her side.

Heather looked up from where she'd nearly fallen asleep again. "Done?" She asked sleepily.

Ginny shook her head, pulling her shirt up to just below her breasts, allowing the naturally cool air of the room to wash over the heated pain, soothing and calming her.

"I don't have enough energy left. But I've fixed all the major stuff. I suppose I can just leave it and let the rest heal on its' own." She shrugged, pulling herself back to sit on her pillow.

They both started when something rapped sharply on the window. Ginny sat up quickly, then fell back on her bed with an anguished groan at the pain that lanced through her side and stomach.

Heather stood. "I'll go see what that was." She moved over to the window and opened it. She gasped and leapt back, startled, as Blaise flew in on his broom. Ginny stared over her chest, though she didn't have the strength or will to sit up.

"What is it?" she asked, leaning her head back on her pillow. "If it's Draco's owl again, send it back- I don't have any more owl treats. Honestly, he needs to feed that poor creature more." The hint of anger in her voice betrayed the otherwise normal statement.

"Actually, Gin…it's Blaise."

Ginny sat up immediately, clutching at her side. "Oh, fucking hell!" she gasped. Realizing that Blaise was averting his gaze in an almost embarrassed fashion, Ginny looked down, flushed, and pulled down her shirt.

"S'alright." She confirmed. Blaise turned around, his glance now worried. "Bloody hell, Ginny! What the hell happened to you? Is that from the game?" He asked, gesturing towards her side, which had betrayed a quick glimpse of a large black bruise before she had a chance to pull her shirt down.

Ginny flamed and bit her lip, glancing away evasively. "Um…yes. A little run in with a Bludger." Blaise's eyes bugged open. "Is that from the one that Draco hit?"

Ginny's head snapped up, her avoiding gaze growing shocked. "You saw that?"

Blaise shook his head, still looking aghast. "No, but Draco told me. He's been upset about it all day. Given me the most horrible headache, it has." Blaise shook his head wearily as if to emphasize his point.

Ginny's gaze softened somewhat. "Draco…" she said gently, then turned to Blaise as if just seeing him. "He's been worried? What did he say?" She sat up again, doing her best to ignore the throb in her side.

Blaise seemed to lose his cool temporarily, as well as his verbal abilities. "Uh…erm…well…" he searched for words, floundering while Heather watched on with more than a little amusement.

"He…er…well- Um...it's just that he was really horrified that he'd hit you." He said in a rush. Heather grinned silkily and Ginny cocked her head. "Well, he was worried that you might be hurt…he went looking for you, but after looking in the hospital wing, library, and the Great Hall, he figured you had to be up here, so you couldn't be too hurt, but he's still upset, and I'm babbling, aren't I?" He turned to Heather to ask the last question. She grinned and nodded.

"I'm afraid so. Quite a bad case you've got there…babbling like a bloody school girl." She quipped and Blaise childishly stuck his tongue out at her. Ginny laughed as they began bickering. Ever since they'd gotten together, Heather and Blaise had become more lively and well…fun. They laughed and joked more…no longer were they so worried about keeping up appearances. Their cool, brisk, unaffected exteriors loosened a little, and they really lived life now.

"_Anyway…_" Ginny cleared her throat, breaking into their friendly bantering. Blaise turned to her mid-rant, mouth still open and Heather bent over in silent laughter, clutching her sides. Ginny rolled her eyes slightly and swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing with only the slightest grimace.

Turning around to face Heather and Blaise with her arm wrapped around her side, Ginny surveyed her two friends carefully.

Blaise shifted slightly. "What?" He asked, wary of her sharp gaze.

Ginny cut off her searching gaze to look up and meet his eyes, and where his were confused and suspicious, hers were pleading and resolute. "Fine. I really appreciate you telling me about…everything. But I need to deal with this myself. As much help as you've been, Draco and I have to fix this." She shook her head slightly, and moved to her trunk, opening it and pulling out clothes.

"I've got to go talk to him." She pulled out an outfit and flung it onto her bed, pausing and turning to the other couple. "I need you two to do me a favor- don't…tell Draco about…this." She touched a hand to her side.

Heather's eyes darkened and Blaise stared. "What do you mean? He's got to know. He's freaking out right now, and he doesn't even know he's done anything to you. He's going to want to know what he did."

"But you said he didn't mean to!" Ginny protested.

Blaise put his hands up, backing away a step. "He didn't! It's just that…well…" He looked around, as if searching for a reason to keep his mouth shut. He couldn't really find one, but he felt like not telling Draco was betraying him somehow. He had the right to know.

"He'd find out anyways, and if you or one of us doesn't tell him, he'll get really pissed." Blaise scraped up, realizing it was no argument, but willing o try anything to get Ginny to see sense.

Ginny nodded understandingly. "I know, I know. And I will tell him, cross my heart. But I need to talk to him first, honestly and truly, without him thinking that he's done me some serious harm. If he thinks he's hurt me, it won't be the same." She gazed at her two friends, pleadingly.

Blaise was still searching for something valid to say. It was Heather who first spoke. "Deal." Blaise turned to her, surprised. Heather nodded practically unnoticeably. "I understand you need to talk to him. But you need to tell him as well. We'll give you two days, and if you don't tell him, we will." She locked her eyes with Ginny's. "Can you handle that?"

Ginny scrunched up her face and stuck up her nose. "I suppose. Though it's an awful lot to ask of a poor girl." She feigned fatigue, then became serious. "Alright. I'm going to go talk to him, and then I'll tell him." She nodded, going back to her bed to pick up her clothes.

"He's back at Slytherin, yeah?" She asked offhand over her shoulder, beginning to unbutton her robes. The scarlet cloth fell to the ground around her feet. As she bent to pick it up, Blaise shook his head. After realizing (with the help from Heather's elbow) that Ginny couldn't see him, he opened his mouth. "Um…no, actually. Well, he might be, on second thought. When I left, he was going to see Skye. You should try her classroom first. If he's not there, try Slytherin tower."

"And if he's not there?" Ginny asked teasingly, putting her robes in her trunk.

Blaise shrugged, putting an arm around Heather and steering her over to his broom. "He's your bloke, not mine." Smiling and waving, the couple mounted the broom and flew off through the window.

Ginny rolled her eyes and undressed, slipping into a cleaner, less battered outfit. She wrapped her sparkling silvery cloak around her shoulders and squared them, turning to the open window, broom in hand.

"Right. Slytherin chat time."

_KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK._

"Hello?"

"Skye? It's Ginny. Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure…hang on a tick."

"No problem. Oh, is Draco in there with you?"

The door to the dance classroom opened, and Skye stood in the doorway in men's black cotton pajamas covered in little orange, grey, white, and tan hairs.

Yawning, she looked down and hastily wiped her front. "Damn. Er- darn." She corrected. "Remind me never to wear black and play with kittens."

Ginny laughed.

Skye looked up after a moment, putting her fuzzy night-clothes down as a lost cause. "Were you looking for Draco, then?" Ginny nodded, trying to peer over Skye's shoulder into the classroom discreetly. "Sorry, he's gone. I think he went to look for you." She shrugged and smiled, waving her goodnight as she shut the door without another word.

Ginny stared at the wooden door for a second before turning back to Gryffindor.

"What a crazy woman." She muttered to herself, shaking her head admiringly.

Draco strode both angrily and determinedly down a corridor. As a snooping, sneaking Slytherin (and he would be the first to agree with that last statement), he knew many many things about the castle he wasn't supposed to. Including (luckily) where the other house common rooms were.

Sometimes it helped to be rich and good-looking…some girls would tell you anything…

Recalling the location of the Gryffindor common room, Draco pushed aside a rug hanging on a wall, which led to another corridor.

Before long, he was approaching (he hoped) the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, which was marked by a portrait of a Fat Lady dressed in pink. Scanning the walls as he ascended the stairs, Draco allowed his mind to wander.

What to do? He knew he needed to apologize to Ginny (though no sorrow or excuses could ever make up for that momentary lapse in judgment), he just didn't exactly know how to go about doing it…

Shaking his head, he walked on, and stopped abruptly. He slowly backed up and turned to the wall again. A rather large woman dressed in a frilly pink dress. She arched an eyebrow at him.

"Yes?"

"I need to get in." Draco said simply.

The Fat Lady laughed heavily. "Funny, that!" Then, realizing he was serious: "Of course you can't come in! You're no Gryffindor. Even without your Slytherin tie, I could tell." She sniffed disapprovingly at him. "I'm sorry," she began, sounding as if she was not at all "but you can't come in, good night."

She made as if to turn away to go back to what looked like a glass of wine. Draco stomped forward, the unmistakable Malfoy face of rage taking over. The Fat Lady turned to smirk at him one last time, and promptly dropped her wine glass.

Ignoring the shattering goblet, the Fat Lady's jaw began to flutter and flap, trembling with fear that echoed in her large eyes. Clearly she hadn't forgotten the time Sirius Black tried to break into the Gryffindor common room to get to Potter.

"Erm…wait, wait, wait!" She held up her hands as Draco stalked closer. "D-don't come any closer! I'm warning you! Just don't hurt me!" She cowered as Draco came up to within a foot of the painting.

"Quite your blubbering. I just need to get inside."

The Fat Lady looked close to tears. "I-I can't! Not unless you have the password."

"But I have to talk to someone in there!" Draco growled, stepping closer. "Hello? Hello!" He shouted, banging on the picture frame noisily.

"DRACO!? What _are_ you doing?"

Draco whirled around and the Fat Lady fled, leaving him to face a very confused and surprised Ginny, standing on the steps just below him, hands on her hips, frowning slightly.

"Ginny!" Practically leaping down the stairs Draco flung himself at Ginny. The considerably smaller red-head nearly fell back with the force of Draco latching onto her neck. Her side panged painfully, but she managed to ignore it, as her shock neatly overwhelmed her pain.

"Draco?! What on earth?!" She gasped. Draco was crushing her to him and she could barely breathe under the pressure of how tightly he was holding her. "What's wrong? This is so…unlike you."

He was off her in a second, standing back a few steps and looking down at his feet rather sheepishly. "Sorry…are you alright?"

Ginny was still staring at him, mouth wide open. Draco shifted uncomfortably and she seemed to snap back to reality…yes, this was Draco Malfoy standing in front of her…though a very strange and possibly slightly addled one…with a bit of a concussion perhaps…

"Um…yeah…I'm fine." Ginny managed. She could almost see the cloud of relief come out of him as he sighed.

"Gods, Ginny…I'm so…s-s-sorry about the game." He forced out. Now was not the time to get tongue-tied…he continued on in a rush.

"YouknowIdidn'tmeantohityou,right,becasueIwasaimingforDeanand…" Ginny shook her head and waved her hands at Draco. "Wait, wait. Slow down Draco, I can't understand a word you're saying." Draco shut his mouth hastily.

"Now...what did you say?" Ginny asked, putting a hand on his arm and steering him to sit down on the stairs. Draco sat down rather exhaustedly.

Staring straight on ahead of him, he went on. "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you, right?" Ginny's head snapped around. She was…well, to be perfectly frank…touched. Not just in the metaphorical sense, either: Draco was gently caressing her knee and the skin above it, sending distracting shivers and insane ideas through her brain.

Forcing herself to stop thinking about wrapping herself around him right then and there, Ginny turned to Draco once more. His face was drawn and troubled, and he was still staring at the ground in front of him. Ginny reached out hesitantly and touched her finger to his chin, turning it gently so that he faced her.

His normally light eyes had gone dark, like they did sometimes when he was about to kiss her or hold her. It scared her sometimes, like it was doing now. When he was looking at her like that, she didn't know what he was thinking. He could be thinking about anything from sex to death…a very, very wide range of possibilities.

"I never meant to hit you. I just wanted you to know that. I meant to hit him…Thomas, I mean. I talked to Po-Harry this morning and he told me about…that thing in your fourth year." His eyes went even darker, so that now they were a murky grey-blue.

Ginny tensed. _Damn it Harry!_ She must have said it out loud, because Draco started suddenly, staring at her as if she'd lost it. "Well, really! Damn him. I'd gone two years without anyone finding out. He finds out and can't keep it to himself for a week! Bloody hell!" She stood suddenly, stamping furiously.

Draco was wide-eyed. He also stood, and enclosed Ginny quickly in a tight embrace. Ginny choked back a gasp as his ribs hit her tender ones, but pushed the slight pain away. It was nothing to this. She hadn't been with Draco in quite a while, and she'd begun to miss him.

Draco pulled away.

"What was that for?" Ginny asked, resting her head contentedly on Draco's chest. When he spoke, it rumbled against her temple, soothing her even more.

"Harry lets out your secret to your boyfriend and you're ready to kick his arse; I nearly knock a hole in you and you're all hugs and sweet talk." He shook his head, marveling at the devotion (or possible mental issues) of his loved.

Ginny snuggled in closer, a ridiculously sappy smile stretching lazily across her face. "Yes, well…you _would_ knock a hole in Harry if I was all hugs and sweet talk with him. So I guess no matter what you do, I'll still love you. Besides, you give the best hugs." She added after a moment's pause.

Draco glanced down at her (rather the top of her head). "Just hugs?" Ginny tilted her head up, looking up at him. "Hmmm?" Draco bent lower, bringing his lips closer to hers. Ginny's eyes slipped from their lock with his to land on his lips. "What about kisses?" Ginny's cocoa gaze flickered up to him momentarily. "Like I'd tell you you've got kisses that could melt a girl and leave her lying in a puddle at your feet." She shook her head slightly. "You're ego's big enough as it is." She teased.

Draco leaned down and brushed his nose across hers. She gasped and then scowled at him, to which he merely grinned. She'd thought he was going to kiss her.

"Well, whose fault is my over-inflated ego?" He asked teasingly. Ginny's frown went to a smile. "Could it be my praising Gryffindor girlfriend?" Draco pretended to think. Ginny laughed and reached up, tugging his face down to hers. "Shut up, Draco. You're so damn full of yoursel-" His lips ate her 'f' and the rest of her sentence. Not that she really minded.


	22. Poke

**Author's Note: **Hoohah, Chapter 22. No one really seemed that impressed with Chapter 21, so I thought, what the hell, let's make an even worse, really corny and slap-stick humor chapter. So here it is. Don' expect too much from this, but hopefully it will buy me some time to come up with a really great ending for a horrible story. Ha, yeah right. But, here's to hoping! Cheers.

**Disclaimer: ** Not mine unless it is, like all other four hundred and sixty twelve (yes, that's a real number according to me) times I've had to disclaim the talent I wish was mine...sigh...going to go throw myself off a bridge now. Enjoy.

* * *

** Dancing Life  
**

**Chapter 22: Poke**.

* * *

"Stop poking me."

"I'm not poking you."

"…"

"Stop poking me."

"I'm not poking you."

"…"

"Stop poking me."

"I'm not poking you."

Poke.

"_**BLAISE!**"_

Blaise laughed readily, clutching his sides. Heather was absolutely stone-cold…most of the time. But when you managed to break through her icy exterior she was like a fire trapped in a frozen mountain: she soon burst out with passion and heat.

"Blaise!" Heather repeated, shoving his hand away. For the past half an hour they'd been sitting in an empty room (which Blaise had discovered) in front of a fire. They had been comfortable enough just sitting with each other, not talking…until Blaise had gotten bored (typical male Slytherin) and found a rather interesting and comical way to spend his time.

Gods how he loved getting her riled up.

Heather flicked Blaise's ear; a trick she'd seen Ginny use on Draco many times. Blaise reached up and caught her hand; unlike Ginny, she hadn't quite figured out that you were supposed to flick someone's ear, then run away as fast as possible before they could get you back.

Blaise reached out with his free hand and poked Heather's forehead. Heather crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. Blaise grinned. "Child." He poked her again.

"Infant." She threw back, brushing away his hands and viciously poking Blaise in the side, causing him to double over, tickled.

He straightened back up. "Baby." He poked her nose, smiling as she wrinkled it as if she had an itch, staring down at the end of it.

"Toddler." She quipped, reaching up quickly and flicking his nose. He wriggled it, and suddenly scrunched up his face in a humungous sneeze.

"A-Ach-ACHOOOO!" he sneezed, his shoulders heaving forward with the force.

Heather snickered somewhat meanly, taking the opportunity of his exposed head to fluff up his hair roughly. "Floof!" She cried triumphantly. Blaise straightened up, his normally neat hair fluffed and tangled messily so that it poofed out in all directions.

Needless to say, Heather had neither the ability or will to keep a straight face. She bent over in gasping laughter. Strategic blunder. Dark eyes glinting maliciously Blaise reached out with both hands and (pulling her hair from the band holing it up) proceeded to ruffle Heather's long hair brutally.

"Arrggghhhh!" Heather's muffled exclamation came from under the tangled mass that was her hair. Pushing away Blaise's hands, she flung her head back, tossing her hair out of her face.

"Bugger!" she hissed, shoving him roughly. Losing his balance, Blaise fell off the couch he was seated on, and landed on his back. "Ow." He commented to the ceiling. After a moment, Heather's victorious face appeared in his line of vision, just above his own head.

"Ptthhhbbbttt!" Heather blew a raspberry at him in success.

With one swift movement, their positions were switched, and Blaise had her flipped onto her back, staring up at him in shock. "Oy…how'd you do that?" She breathed. "That was…fast."

It was Blaise's turn to grin triumphantly down at her. "I believe, Mademoiselle Rambinski, that I have won this little battle." He grinned pretentiously.

Heather sat up suddenly, her lips meshing with Blaise's slack, surprised ones. She ran one hand up behind his neck and through the thick hair there. She teasingly poked Blaise's lips with the tips of her tongue. When he finally parted his lips, she kissed him once, passionately and hard (enough for him to gasp down her throat) and then pulled back.

Apparently satisfied with his dazed and murky eyes, she sat back on her elbows. "But I 'ave won ze war, no?" She said in a slight French accent.

Blaise finally closed his mouth and stared at her with a look that quite clearly said "no shit" and nodded dumbly. "Darling, you've not just won the war; you've fucking conquered the world."

He reached up to cup her head, pulling her face closer to his. Heather smiled a second before their lips touched again. "Here's to world-domination." She whispered before he covered her mouth with his. They had time for discussion later.

"So Dean's in the hospital wing after all." Ginny speculated dryly, not the slightest trace of sympathy in her voice. Not even Draco could get jealous with that statement…not with the tone she used.

Draco nodded once, pulling his arms around Ginny's front. They were still on the top step, with Ginny sitting snugly on the step between Draco's legs, her back pressed to his chest as he hugged her to him. Realizing she couldn't see his nod, he spoke: "Yeah. Bludger glanced off you and hit him anyway." He said gloomily.

Ginny turned her face up to kiss him on the lips. The soft caress soothed him. Pulling away, Ginny smiled and leaned in again to line tender, butterfly kisses along his jaw.

"Don't sound so guilty, Draco." She whispered against his ear. "Well…you can feel guilty about Dean, though I know you won't. But I know you weren't aiming at me. Right?"

Draco smiled softly. "Right."

"Hey Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Have you decided on a dance? We're supposed to have them for dance class in the morning." Ginny asked.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. Over the past few days, he'd been giving this issue a lot of thought. He knew how much it meant to her, and he wanted it to be…well, perfect, as corny and hokey as it sounded.

"Erm…well…you didn't have any ideas?" Ginny shook her head. She'd been through countless dance books, and gotten numerous paper cuts, and still, she'd found nothing that would suit. How could she? She didn't even really know what she was looking for!

"Well, there was this one dance that I glanced at." Draco bit back a laugh at his words. Glanced? Hell, he'd studied that dance inside and out, despite his initial distaste for it, which was only fueled for his aggravation at Skye for being so knowing and confidant and assured.

"It's called the dance of life. Heard of it?" Of course she wouldn't have heard of it. As if to confirm his thoughts, Ginny shook her head." Nooooo…I don't think so…" she shook her head again.

"If you want, we can give it a try." Draco said nonchalantly, shrugging slightly. A smile lit up on Ginny's lips. "Do you like it?" she asked. Draco shrugged. "It's okay." He said indifferently. Ginny arched an eyebrow. "What kind of dance is it?"

Draco shrugged yet again. "Some peculiar dance from the Dark Ages England or something. Skye recommended it…she said it fit your personality." He shrugged, as if he had _no_ idea what that meant…

Ginny flushed and grinned appreciatively. "Sounds great. Let's give it a whirl." She turned around and pressed her lips firmly against Draco's.

Harry glanced up from where he was sitting. The hospital wing was dark and dreary, which was very unfortunate, as the young dark-haired man was feeling exceptionally down. His Beater was recovering from a few broken bones and a slightly punctured lung. Dean was doing quite well, though. Madame Pomfrey was going to keep him overnight, but he'd hopefully be fit enough to resume Quidditch within a few days.

That wasn't entirely what was depressing him. His star Chaser, best friend's sister, and personal friend was going through a rough time. Poor Ginny. Harry could imagine that dating someone like Draco Malfoy would be something along the lines of suicidal. At least from Harry's point of view…

Harry had caught a glimpse of Ginny's terrific crash landing, though he'd been a bit busy with Dean at the moment…still, he was rather worried that Ginny might have gotten hurt. And if not in the game, by Draco. He had managed to see the anxious-looking Slytherin poke his head into the hospital wing before storming off, raving madly.

Harry shook his head exhaustedly. Though he hadn't seen anything really, he had a strange feeling that Dean's accident and Ginny's absence from dinner (he'd ducked in to check on her, but she wasn't there) had something to do with the pale blonde Slytherin.

Harry turned at the sound of feminine footsteps. Madame Pomfrey was hurrying towards Dean's cot. She gave Harry a slightly surprised glance before bustling over to check on the inert dark boy.

"Still here, are you Potter?" She asked brusquely. Harry nodded silently, standing and stretching his cramped limbs. Dean was fine, and Madame Pomfrey was giving him that If-you're-not-going-to-do-something-useful-get-out-of-my-way look.

"I'll just drop in tomorrow, then shall I?" Harry commented dryly, picking up his spare shoulder bag with his Quidditch kit. Madame Pomfrey made no comment, but scoffed derisively, as if to say "If you come, at least do something useful."

Giving her back a mocking bow, Harry exited the hospital wing.

What a fucking piece of shit day.

"BLAISE! Can you keep your goddamn lips off mine for ten consecutive seconds while we dance?" Heather shoved Blaise (laughing) off her. Fuming, she turned and glared over her shoulder, stifling the laughter from Draco and Ginny, who were preparing behind her.

"Shut it, you two. Draco, please. Can you do something? He's absolutely incorrigible!" Heather whined, stamping her foot impatiently and groaning as Blaise came up behind her and wrapped her in a huge embrace.

"Like he pays any attention to what I say." Draco commented sarcastically as Blaise twirled the younger girl around for another kiss.

"Like anyone does." Ginny quirked, grinning and dancing just out of Draco's reach as he tried to swat her. Draco managed to hide his grin remarkably well, looking sullen and cross. Immediately Ginny was at his side. "Look, Draco. I didn't mean-" Draco swiftly took her in his arms and pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss.

Ginny sighed happily, for once glad that Draco had conned her. His tongue quickly parted her lips to taste her mouth and his arms wrapped around her back and shoulders, hands wandering.

She was vaguely aware of Blaise and Heather whistling and catcalling, Ginny slid her arms around Draco's waist, bringing him closer to her, his body pressed firm against hers.

"Whoa! Draco, mate! Get a bloody room man, before you start taking her clothes off!" They heard Blaise laugh, and something that sounded oddly enough like "indecent" come in a violently fake cough from Heather.

Draco broke off from Ginny, breathing somewhat laboriously. He looked down at her, her eyes clouded and wild and her hair messed up from the hands he didn't even recall running through her hair.

He grinned ruefully making Ginny's battered heart do flip-flops. "Sorry. Forgot we had an audience." He shrugged his shoulders carelessly, heading back to the table where the blue dance book was laying open.

While Blaise and Heather had decided to work through the steps of their dance to learn them (and had been doing until Blaise started kissing Heather), Draco and Ginny had planned on working out the dance steps before trying them out.

Draco sat down on a stool and leaned over the book. Ginny lifted herself up to sit on the table, which made it very difficult for Draco to concentrate on the dance steps. Her shapely rear and legs so close in touching range were putting all sorts of indecent thoughts in his head.

"This is quite the…er…physical…dance." Ginny commented with a slight blush, staring down at the moving picture as the woman melded against the man, wrapping one leg around his side and slipping her arms around his neck and pulling him close as he lifted her off her other foot and swung her around gracefully.

A smile slid onto Draco's thin lips. "I think I'll rather enjoy practicing this part." He said silkily, pointing down as the picture man set the woman down and ran his hands down her neck, shoulders, arms, and sides before picking her up by her hips and quickly transferring her to his other arm, tucking one arm under her knees and spinning her around.

Ginny sighed, staring down at the picture. The woman there was perfect. Her legs were straight and poised delicately over his arms, her arms wrapped tenderly around the man's neck. She was so tall, slender, and graceful. While Ginny shared the first two traits, she was rather lacking in the latter one.

Draco looked up at her, and saw the ache in her deep brown eyes. "Hey," He said softly, reaching up and brushing aside a stray strand of red hair. "you know I love you, right?" Ginny's eyes widened and she nodded. "And you know you're beautiful, right?" this time Ginny rolled her eyes. "Please, Draco. If you think I'm attractive, that's your insane, psychotic opinion. Don't pretend like I'm some great beauty. I'm not even-"

Again, Draco's lips cut her sentence off. Draco's lip touched hers softly, tenderly, and Ginny could have cried from the gentility of the gesture. His hand came up to barely ouch her cheek, and Ginny couldn't help but lean into it. Her self-image aside, at that moment, she felt beautiful.

After a moment, Draco pulled away, staring deeply and somewhat unnervingly into her eyes. His cold grey eyes were unusually expressive, and Ginny saw pain, sadness, and a world of love in them. "You are beautiful." Draco said softly. "Physically, you're absolutely divine. Spiritually, you're gorgeous. Even if you weren't pretty, your soul would make you outstanding. As it is, I don't know why a poor fuck like me has you. I know I don't deserve you, but I do love you. More than I think you'll ever know."

Ginny's jaw had dropped. She flung her arms around Draco's neck, nearly sobbing. "Oh gods, Draco. I love you. More than I'll ever know. Gods, I don't know why I do, but I love you more than life itself. You don't know how blissful life is with you."

Draco drew back at her serious words, which weren't meant to be so serious. "Are you serious?" Ginny looked up, her eyes tearing. "How can you ask that? I'm more serious than I've ever been in my life. I love you, Draco Malfoy."

Draco looked torn. His eyes kept darting back and forth, as if he was trying to find the answer he was looking for. "I-do-it's just-would you-you…" He sighed, frustrated and ran a shaking hand through his hair. He took a deep, steadying breath. "I know we're young and all, but-"

"Hey Draco! We've got to go in a few more hours! Are you two going to talk all day, or are you actually going to dance?" It being Sunday, but before the dance, Skye had left the dance class open for two couples at a time to practice. The two couples from Gryffindor and Slytherin had booked the room for a good four hour block.

Draco actually moaned, slamming his fist down onto the table and turned around to yell at Blaise. Ginny watched on in vacant amusement, her chin on her hand, her elbow on her knee, which was curled up on the table. She studied Draco's face as he ranted at Blaise across the room. He was so lovely, even when he was angry.

How could she not have seen how amazingly attractive he was? Granted, he'd always been sexy, but now she saw him as utterly handsome. Perfect and breathtaking. Next to him, she looked like some poor, plain peasant standing next to a perfect, prim, groomed prince. She still couldn't believe he loved her. Love! That was serious. And looking at him, she had to admit that he was serious about her. Absolutely. And it frightened her a little. Love of that depth, that nature, was reserved for the fantastical fairy tales she had banished from her heart and mind long ago. Could it be possible that she was wrong? That she could actually find love?

Glancing at Draco warmly, she had to acknowledge that she already had.

"Blaise, shut up and get over here! Worry about your own dancing; I swear, you have three left feet." Heather motioned for him to join her.

Draco turned back to Ginny, opening his mouth to say something. She broke him off, standing suddenly. "Come on Draco. Though I can hardly bear to say it, Blaise is right. We need to practice dancing. We've got one week to get this thing down." She moved out into the middle of the classroom, beckoning for Draco to join her.

He came up in front of her, staring down at her outstretched hands. Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes. Reaching out to grasp Draco's hands, she placed them firmly on her hips. She reached up on the tips of her toes to plant an even firmer kiss on his lips. "Now stop being a berk and dance." She commanded.

The dance went smoothly, with them stopping every once in a while to correct a flaw or readjust their arms. Unfortunately, not everything can always go perfectly. They got to the part where Draco was to pick Ginny up by her hips. Extremely unfortunately, he misplaced his hands and picked her up by her middle, his hands falling on her sides, and directly on her bruise.

"Aaarrrggghhhhh! Fuck!" Ginny dropped her arms and clutched at her side. Draco quickly sat her down on the floor, paling. "Jesus Christ Ginny, what! Are you alright! What's wrong?" Ginny doubled over, her face pulled tightly in a grimace. "Ohhhhh myy g-g-godsssss." Ginny cried, biting on her lip until it bled.

Draco glanced down at where she was gripping her side in pain. Before she could stop him, he reached down and pulled up her shirt. He gasped audibly, loud enough to drown out the "oh shit" that came from Blaise. Her entire side was a sickly purple color, going a pale green around the edges. Most obviously painful.

Draco's eyes came up to meet Ginny's. Her large brown eyes were guilty and horrified under the intense pain. Draco's were pained in an entirely different way, also tinged with pain. "Did…did _I_ do this?" He asked softly, touching her side tenderly, as he had unknowingly during the game after she'd first been hit. Ginny hissed in pain. When she finally opened her eyes, they were blurring with tears. She nodded once, and Draco felt a resounding pain pounding in his chest, threatening to suffocate and smother him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I know you didn't mean to, and well, I just didn't think it would do any good to tell you. You'd just get pissed at Dean and try to do something stupid again, which is how this happened in the first place, or you'd feel bad, and I didn't want to do that to you…I'm sorry." She said again, waiting for an angry outburst.

Draco looked absolutely thunderous and black right then. Ginny was so shocked at the hate and rage boiling in his suddenly dark grey eyes that she started, almost jumping backwards. Draco looked up, tearing his gaze from the stone floor he'd been glaring darkly at. Immediately his gaze softened.

"Ginny, you…you didn't do anything wrong. You have nothing to be sorry for. I just…I was afraid I'd hurt you. I thought I had, but someone" he turned his black glare onto Blaise who wisely made a move to hide behind Heather "assured me you'd be fine."

"And I am!" Ginny said quickly. "Honestly, after the initial healing, it was just bruises. And…well…we're just learning to heal, and my abilities are a little less than perfect, so…well…I just got tired and decided to let the bruises heal by themselves. Honestly, I'm fine, it's only a few bruises. I'm no whiny wimpy delicate girl…I grew up with six older brothers, I can handle myself." She grinned wryly.

Her smile dripped off her face under the intense heat of Draco's stare. That hard edge was creeping back into his eyes, and Ginny unconsciously coiled back. "What do you mean 'after the initial healing'? What initial healing?'

Ginny grimaced, and restrained herself from smacking her head against something hard and painful, though it took much willpower. "Oh, that was stupid. Way to fuck things up, Ginny." She murmured to herself. Then, realizing Draco was now fixing her with one of his special sanity-questioning looks, she hastened on to explain.

"Erm…well…Bludgers are brutal little things, and…it was just a couple of cracked ribs. Really, it was nothing. It's happened in other games…it's happened playing with my brothers. Hell, with my two left feet, it's happened just walking down the stairs. It's nothing." She said convincingly.

Draco gave her a quick look. "Hmm," was all he said. Ginny must have caught something hidden in his voice, because her head snapped up. "Draco…" she said warningly, making him look up almost guiltily at her.

"What?" He asked, sounding far too much like a culpable child hiding dirty hands behind his back. Ginny shook her head, biting her lip to stop it from curling up in a smile. Trying to assume a reasonably stern face, she frowned at him.

"Promise me something."

"What?"

"Just promise me something."

"What do you want me to promise you?"

"Just _please_ promise me something."

"What?!"

"Draco!" Growling in frustration and annoyance, Ginny leaned in. Capturing Draco's surprised thin lips with her own, she pressed her body to his. She could feel him stiffening against her. Half-smiling into his mouth, she slipped a hand up his back to toy with his hair, alternately running her fingers through it and twirling it around her fingers.

Draco groaned and moved to pull her closer. But Ginny pulled away, grinning satisfactorily as he moaned in disappointment. "Damnit, Ginny! You just can't do that to a guy!"

Ginny smirked. "What, you looking for more than just a kiss?" she waggled her eyebrows suggestively, causing Heather (all the way across on the other side of the room) to gasp disapprovingly. Draco arched an eyebrow.

"Well, if you're offering…" he trailed off, running a finger lightly up her thigh against bare skin. Ginny gasped and swatted away his hand. "Draco!" she groaned, rolling her eyes as he grinned.

"What's wrong, Ginny dear? Can't take the pleasure?" He sneered arrogantly.

"Narcissistic prat." She growled, leaning in closer. Draco eyes widened. There was something singularly scary and sexily dangerous flashing in her eyes. She leaned into his chest, smirking victoriously.

"It depends…can you handle the pleasure?" she teased, placing her hand firmly on his upper thigh. His eyes practically bugged out, and it was all he could do not to cross his legs.

"Ginny…" he said, in a strangled voice. Ginny sat back, cocking an eyebrow. "What? I didn't do anything." She shrugged her shoulders innocently.

Draco sucked in a breath. "Mmmm…you certainly did _something_." He managed to choke out.

Ginny looked slightly worried. "What did I do?" she asked, concern edging into her voice. She leaned forward anxiously, inadvertently placing her hand on his thigh again. He growled deep in the back of his throat, the sound becoming gargled and strained.

He shoved her away gently. "Go…go…just go away. Over there, just get far away, or I swear to Salazar Slytherin, you're going to kill me." He pointed to the other side of the classroom, where Blaise and Heather were hanging all over each other, laughing hysterically.

Ginny had the distinct impression there was something vital that she was missing. Some important piece of information that was essential to her comprehension of their very odd conversation.

As it was, she nodded and walked over to the other side of the room, dazed and confused, while Draco attempted in vain to regain his cool. Coming over to Blaise and Heather, who stifled their laughter, Ginny cocked her head to the side. "What did I do?" She asked again.

Heather rolled her eyes as Blaise fell over, laughing. Kicking him purposefully, Heather cleared her throat. The laughter ceased. "Perhaps you'd like to explicate for dear innocent, chaste, pure Ginevra Weasley."

Blaise hopped up, grinning madly. He nearly broke up again as Draco made a mad dash out of the room, banging the door behind him.

Turning back to Ginny, Blaise pulled on a straight face and cleared the laughter from his throat. "Right. Sorry, but that was priceless. Gods, what I wouldn't give to watch that again." he seemed on the verge of cracking up again, so Heather headed him off with a well-placed elbow to the ribs. Spluttering, Blaise hastened on.

"Well, you see, Ginny…when a guy kisses a girl or touches her, or does something that makes him feel pleasure, he…reacts." Blaise said delicately.

Ginny turned her head to the side. "Well, yeah, I react to him whenever he kisses me or touches me…" she trailed off as Blaise was shaking his head, looking vastly amused. "Erm…a guy's reaction is more…physical…" Blaise stared meaningfully at Ginny, who just stood staring at him in confusion.

Blaise rolled his eyes and quickly flashed his eyes down to his lap. This time, Ginny caught the insinuation. Her eyes widened. "What?! I mean, I know about…that, but I didn't think just doing something like kissing him would…oh gods!" She covered her mouth with a hand.

Blaise stifled a laugh. "Yeah, well…apparently your Draco is very much affected by you." He shook his head softly. "You two might have to cut down on the kissing and touching…if you're not going to sleep together any time soon, which I gather you're not." He laughed suddenly. "Poor Draco." He sniggered again, making his statement seem very inadequate.

Ginny rolled her eyes, flushing a wild red. "Shut it, Blaise. Draco and I have a dance to practice." She waltzed off, giving him a very rude gesture behind her back as Draco peeked hesitantly into the room before entering.

At this point, they'd never have the dance memorized.


	23. And OneTwoThreeOneTwoNoOneEighteenUh…

**Author's Note: **After much deliberation, I decided that even though practically no one reviewed the last time I updated, that's no reason not to post now that I have chapter 23. So here it is. Really bad chapter, but it's got some great vocabulary.Who can honestly say they wouldn't want to have a wit-matching contest like that? Probably everyone but me. Oh well, I'm weird. Get over it and read the chapter. But most importantly...enjoy. And if you haven't read Nowhere Girl, PLEASE DO! Cheers.

**Disclaimer: **You know, it was the strangest thing...this morning I woke up and I was J.K. Rowling...not falling for it? Yeah, me neither...not mine unless it is.

* * *

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 23: And One-Two-Three-One-Two-No-One-Eighteen-Uh…

* * *

**

"No, no, no. It's five steps back, spin, and two to the left. Left, Ginny, left!"

"Perfectionist."

"Clumsy."

"Dance Nazi."

"Goody two-left-shoes."

"Disciplinarian."

"Ungainly twig."

"Martinet."

"What?"

"Ha! I win. My vocabulary surpasses yours!" Ginny blew a teasing raspberry at a very disgruntled Draco.

"Just because you're overenthusiastic about the exuberance of your verbosity and spend uncountable hours in front of the mirror practicing ways to outsmart your unworthy lover doesn't mean you're any better than the rest of the intellectually-obsessed morons that litter your pitiable excuse for a school house." Feeling this display of intelligence was just far too serious, he briefly stuck out his tongue at Ginny. Tactical miscalculation.

"Child."

"DAMNIT!" Draco leaned over and banged his head on the table. Blaise and Heather looked up from where they were doing a sort of tango on the other side of the room.

"Um, Ginny…you may want to revive your erm…partner, seeing as we only have two, no…an hour and a half left to practice today, and you absolutely cannot practice a dance with an unconscious mate."

"Good point, Heather."

"Shut up you two…I just gave myself a fucking migraine, and I don't need to listen to you two discussing my welfare."

"Lighten up and get up Draco, you're making an arse of yourself."

"SHUT UP BLAISE!"

"Ha."

"You know that takes off five minutes of your life span every time you do that."

"What, yell at Blaise? Well, yeah Ginny, I'd say that's fairly accurate-"

"No, banging your head."

"Oh. Yelling at Blaise is more dangerous, though."

"This is true."

"Damn."

"Nice language, Draco. I'm absolutely swooning with love for you. You know, that's exactly what every girl wants in a boy…a foul mouth-"

"-and an even fouler temper."

"Shut it Blaise."

"Get off your fat arse and make me, Draco."

"Gr."

"Draco, get up. You're going to learn you can't win every time."

"Somehow I'm getting the idea that as long as I'm with you, I'll never win. Damn you, you triumphant…little…bugger."

"Sore loser."

"Aarrrgggghhhhh!" Draco made as if to bang his head on the table again, but Ginny (rolling her eyes) shoved him onto the dance floor. "Draco, shut up and dance."

"Yes, mum." Draco replied smartly, bowing mockingly.

Ginny rolled her eyes again and stepped close to him.

Draco wrapped one arm around her waist and dipped her back gently. Ginny wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, letting her fingers trail up to tangle in his hair. "Right, you ready?" Draco asked, looking somewhat nervous. Ginny smiled reassuringly and nodded. "You'll do fine, Draco. After all, I'm the one with the two left feet, remember?"

Draco grinned. "Well, you do have a habit of tripping all over yourself…" Ginny laughed, blushing lightly. "True enough. Well…shall we?" A mischievous smile slipped onto Draco's mouth.

Ginny barely had time to become fully suspicious before Draco pulled her up quickly. Ginny bit back the gasp that tried to work its way through her lips. Draco pulled her close in one swift move, his forehead touching hers, their lips inches apart. "Prat." Ginny whispered playfully.

Draco smiled again as she pushed away, her feet following the steps of the complex dance. Her face was impassive, but her eyes betrayed her concentration. Draco stood in his stance, weight resting on his back leg, his hands falling loosely on his hips.

Ginny continued to back up, her arms coming up to make rhythmic patterns in the air. She finally stopped, landing on her back leg and throwing her head back, arms held outstretched to either side of her.

Draco, his face also set in concentration, now moved forward, his feet bringing him closer to Ginny in complicated steps that twisted and warped what would have been a straight-line walk.

He stepped close to Ginny and (bracing his legs) picked her up, careful to do so by the hips. He spun her around once before bringing his knee up as a kind of chair for her as her arms snaked once more around his neck, brining her head close to his.

She placed a quick kiss on his cheek before he collected her legs in one arm and brought the other around to her back, lowering her down to the ground.

Ginny sat back on her arms, her knees drawn up slightly, biting her lip as she watched Draco carry out an extremely intricate part of the dance, twisting and turning (he would absolutely not be caught "twirling", it was twisting and turning, which were far more masculine) around her, finally stepping one leg over her middle, and reaching down to pull her up by her hands.

Ginny leapt up fairly nimbly, throwing her arms energetically around his neck as he fully wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flat against him. "You're doing excellent." Ginny commented cheerfully as Draco lifted her a few inches off the ground, spinning around with her several times.

Draco grinned as he let her down and spun her twice. "You're not doing too shabby yourself." He grinned and she stepped back, spinning and dancing farther and farther away.

Blaise and Heather stopped their discussion on the other side of the room to watch the couple immersed in their dance. The two spun far away and danced closer, merging and becoming one, moving rhythmically and passionately.

"Wow." Blaise commented, absolutely stunned. Heather's jaw had similarly dropped. "That's a bit of an understatement." She said softly.

Blaise turned to her again. "Yeah, they dance almost as well as we do." Heather rolled her eyes and smiled, smacking him playfully on the arm.

"Yeah, right."

"I'm serious. You dance…"

"If the rest of your sentence has anything to do with a simile containing 'chicken', 'frog', or any other insulting type of animal, I may be compelled to harm you."

Blaise laughed. "You dance exquisitely." He assured her. Heather rolled her eyes, but had to look down to hide the pleased smile her lips were fostering.

"Yeah, well…you're quite an amazing dancer as well, you know."

"I know."

"Of course you do." Heather smiled. Blaise could be quite arrogant and conceited sometimes…but most of the time it was just in jest and the rest of the time…he really did have something to be bigheaded about.

"We need some music, though. This dance is great, but it just wants some decent tune to accompany it. Where are we going to find a composition or song that fits our dance?"

Blaise looked thoughtfully at the floor. "Well, I'm not really sure, but we'll definitely be able to find something that fits. Or else we can make our own." He said confidently.

Heather's large eyes widened. "You play an instrument?" She asked, awed.

Blaise turned to her and nodded. "Just a few."

Heather's eyes bugged out larger. "_Just a few!_ Just a few, how many is just a few?"

Blaise shrugged nonchalantly. "Well…there's the piano, harp, violin, and the flute – those I learned at home…but Janet taught me how to play the guitar and the drums, so that's-" he counted up on his fingers. "Six, then. Nothing doing, Draco can play eight."

Heather's jaw actually did drop this time. "Six? Eight? I can only pound away a few keys on the piano, and that's hard enough. How in the hell did you find time to learn six different instruments?"

Blaise shrugged. "You learn to play when you're young, and it stays with you forever…besides, once you've learned one instrument, others come easier."

Heather's eyebrow seemed to be stuck in an incredulous arch. "Uh-huh." She murmured noncommittally. Blaise shrugged. "Oh well, shall we continue on with our dance?" he extended a hand to the dance floor. Heather fluttered her eyelashes and grinned. "Why, thank you, Mr. Zabini." She drawled, taking his hand and turning away to the dance floor.

Blaise came around behind her and enclosed her in a crushing embrace. "Not at all…Mrs. Zabini." Heather spun around, her eyes wide. "W-what?" she stammered, the mask of collected cool dropping away like water.

Blaise stepped back for a moment, stunned. "What, I just said-"

"Yeah, I heard what you said Blaise." Heather cut him off, regaining a fraction of her composure. Inside, however she was a bundle of frantic nerves.

_Good god, did he really say- well, he couldn't have meant…that's it, he was just joking around. But he sounded so serious. But he couldn't have been serious. No, he was just messing around with me. Or was he? _

"Hey, Heather. Come on, it was just a joke." Blaise said, trying to hide the hurt in his voice. So maybe he hadn't been completely joking…still, she didn't have to act like the prospect was such a bleak one, did she?

Heather looked visibly relieved. "Oh, right." She breathed, not noticing the stormy look that passed over Blaise's face. She was just about to say something to lighten the mood when Blaise suddenly turned and grabbed his robes.

"Uh, listen. I've really got to go. I have a prior engagement with someone that I absolutely cannot miss. You can clear up, right?"

Heather was baffled at the hard, almost angry tone underlying his words. "Uh, yeah. No problem. Blaise, are you alright?" She asked, reaching out to touch his arm. He pulled away and she snatched her hand back. "Just peachy." He gritted out, and without looking at her, stormed out of the room.

Draco and Ginny sopped their dance and Ginny walked over to Heather. "Hey, are you alright? What happened?" She asked softly, patting Heather's back. The younger girl looked like she was about to cry. Tears were welling up in her huge black eyes.

"Um…I don't really know. He just got sort of angry and left. Said he had somewhere to be." She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the tears. "Oh, gods, Gin. I don't know what I did, but I think it's bad!" She reached up and pulled at her hair, tears now falling from her closed eyes.

Ginny wrapped her arms around her friend and hugged her tightly, rubbing her back and whispering soothing words. Draco's eyes hardened as they went to the door Blaise had stalked out of.

He looked to Ginny, who was watching him. She nodded understandingly and Draco hurried from the room, leaving Ginny to calm one very distressed fifteen-year-old.

Blaise reached his room in a matter of minutes; those few people in the hallways had been smart enough to steer clear of the enraged, bulky Slytherin.

Slamming his door, Blaise threw himself onto his bed, staring moodily up at the ceiling. He wasn't sulking…Zabinis didn't sulk. He was just…contemplating things. Very negative, complicated things. Things that made him slam his fists into his pillow repeatedly until it was reduced to a pile of goose feathers and cloth.

After a few more minutes of "contemplation", Blaise heard a demanding knock at the door. He knew who that had to be. Anyone else would have knocked timidly, for fear of finding either him or Draco in a rage. Which meant it had to be Draco knocking.

"Come in." He sighed heavily, sitting up to face the pale blonde as he entered the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Draco walked over to the foot of Blaise's bed and stood their, saying and doing nothing.

Blaise sat in the silence for as long as he could take it. Finally he cracked, turning to Draco with a scowl on his face. "Well?" He growled, surprised at his own anger.

If Draco was surprised, he didn't show it. "Waiting for an explanation." He said simply, as Blaise had to know what he was referring to.

"For what?" Blaise growled again. Draco sighed. So much for his friend's intelligence. "You know what for. What just happened with you and Heather?" Blaise sat for a moment, assuming an annoyingly self-righteous, condescending glance.

Draco frowned. "Oh, get over yourself, Blaise and tell me what you did. Practically had the kid crying." Blaise bit back the "she's not a kid" that was already forming in the back of his throat. Instead he just sneered.

"_I_ didn't do anything. She got herself in a tizzy because of a joke I made and things got out of hand. It was just a joke. It was just a joke." He said, almost as if he were trying to convince himself rather than Draco.

Draco arched an eyebrow, and restricted himself from saying something that might get him a fist in the stomach. "Really?" was all he said. Blaise's head rose as he caught the sarcasm in his friend's voice. "You know what, Malfoy? Talking to you is absolutely pointless; you're going to be on her side no matter what I say, because she's Ginny's friend, and Ginny comes first, doesn't she? Well, forget it. Go talk to someone who wants to listen." With that, he whirled off, slamming the door forcefully as he left.

Draco sighed and briefly considered going after his best friend. He decided against it, however. Blaise wasn't really mad with Heather. It was just his pride. He just needed some time to let off some steam. And besides, Draco had his own problems to worry about.

He sat up suddenly and went over to his bedside. Slipping a hand under his mattress, he pulled out a box and a neatly folded letter. The box he set on his bedside table, and the letter he picked up and re-read.

_Draco,_

_While I must admit, your letter greatly surprised me (and not in any good way, I must assure you), I must say I am somewhat relieved to you owled for your…belongings. As I stated quite clearly in my last letter, I want nothing to do with you. I have already taken it upon myself to go about getting the proper paperwork. Before the summer is out, I will no longer legally have a son. You will receive the papers at the Hogwarts Express. Do not under any circumstances, ever return to the manor. If you do, I will see you as a potential threat as an ordinary citizen and have you arrested. Enclosed is the rest of your shares in your father's company, and the items you required. _

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Draco set down the paper, feeling absolutely nothing. Picking up the box, the corner of his mouth quirked. Flipping open the box's lid, he stared down seriously at the glittering diamond and emerald ring set in silver that winked up at him. Had his mother known that embedded in one of the picture-frames she had sent him was this gorgeous family heirloom that had gone mysteriously "missing", she never would have given his things to him.

Draco removed the tiny ring from its bed and held it up to the light. In the center was one rather large, round diamond surrounded by silver leaves with tiny emeralds fixed into the band. He frowned at it and placed it back into the box, closing it and shoving it back under his mattress.

He put his head in his hands and exhaled deeply. He had come so close today. So close to asking her…Blaise had interrupted, of course, but maybe it was for the best. What if she wasn't ready? Or worse, what if she just said 'no'? He'd never live through it.

Sighing, he fell back in the bed and groaned wearily.

Meanwhile, Ginny was sill comforting Heather, though now in the seclusion of Ginny's room. The younger girl was now reduced to sobs and tears. Her eyes were red and she was incessantly wiping them with both hands.

"Shh, Heather. It'll be fine. Just tell me again what happened." Ginny cajoled. Heather sniffled several times, blowing her nose in a tissue. "I just don't understand. I flipped when he said Mrs. Zabini, because…well, I thought he was serious for a second. It scared me. And then he got angry, and…and…" she broke down again, putting her head in her hands and weeping.

Ginny wrapped a sisterly arm around her and pulled her close, rocking her back and forth while murmuring softly in her ear. Eventually, Heather calmed down and sat rocking peacefully in Ginny's arms. Finally, she sat up and dried her eyes.

"Now," Ginny began, as she had a vague idea what might have happened "why did you freak out when Blaise called you Mrs. Zabini?"

Heather's eyes widened as if the answer should have been obvious. "Well, because I thought at first that he was serious." She repeated. Ginny shook her head. "And why would it be bad if he was serious?" she questioned softly.

"Because…" Heather began, and stopped. In truth, she couldn't find a reason why it would be bad. It had just frightened her. "Because…well, let's say he was serious…that's talking about marriage. Ginny, I'm just fifteen. Usually people don't even think of that kind of thing until they're at least twenty. I just want to get through school." She bit her lip. "I guess it's just timing. Right now, I can't even think about it." She shook her head again.

Ginny nodded, though she really didn't understand. Perhaps it was just her, but she would die for Draco to say something like that…not in jest, of course. Ginny merely smiled comfortingly at Heather, who was looking a little worse for wear.

"Tell you what. I think you both jus need a little alone time. Why don' you get some sleep, huh?" she gestured to her own bed. Heather's eyes widened even as she held back yawn. "Are you insane, it's the middle of the afternoon!"

Ginny smiled. "I know, but you can use the sleep, even if it's just for a couple of hours." Heather needed no more encouragement. With a quick hug, she slipped under the covers of Ginny's four-poster bed and within minutes was asleep.

Ginny smiled softly at her friend and left the room noiselessly to go find Draco.


	24. I Know

**NOTE: PLEASE READ, ESPECIALLY UNDERLINED THINGS.

* * *

**

**Author's Note: **Finally! Chapter 24 is up. I would have had it up weeks ago; I even had the A/N and disclaimer up when my computer decides that it has too much trouble staying up at 3 in the morning and 'goes to sleep'. I"M THE ONE RUNNING ON CAFFEINE HERE! YOU"RE THE ELECTRICALLY-POWERED ONE! DAMN YOU NEO! Ahem. Well that was entertaining. On to more interesting things...no, I am not discontinuing Dancing Life, and I actually have an ending in mind for this (hehehe...die...no I probably won't kill off any main characters...depends on my sugar and Advil intake). Not only that, but for those of you who liked **How to Make Snape Scream Like a Girl**, I am considering doing four more chapters on it, **IF** I get more reviews on it. I know, I'm needy, but if I'm going to reconstruct the plot (intensely difficult) I want to make sure there will be people to enjoy it. Also, I have **FOUR **other stories I'm working on, so sue me if the udating process is a bit slow. I've got a few one-shots coming up, and I'm going to be spending a week in L.A. (WHOO-HOO) for spring break, so don't be surprised if I don't update for a while. I'll try to update before I leave, but no promises. CHEERS!

**Disclaimer:** not mine, wish it was, but it's not.  
**

* * *

**

**

* * *

**

**Dancing Life **

**Chapter 24: I Know

* * *

**

After about an hour searching the castle to no avail, Ginny finally decided Draco was either outside, or in his room. Since either one required her broom, she stomped wearily upstairs, careful not to disturb Heather, she located her broom and exited via the window, which she somehow managed to close behind her.

Flying around the other side of the castle, she did a couple of flips before reaching his window. Peering in to make sure he was in there alone, she whipped out her wand and murmured a spell. The window opened and Ginny flew in stealthily.

Draco was asleep apparently, on his side facing away from her. Dismounting her broom, she closed the window and set her broom against the wall. She stepped silently around to the other side of the bed and couched beside it.

She sat there for a moment, taking advantage of him in sleep to study his face. He always looked sweet in sleep, though she'd never tell him that. Her eyes traveled over his fine, aristocratic features, and a slight pain tugged at the inside of her chest.

She cared so much for him. On its own accord, her hand reached out and brushed aside his fine white-blonde hair, tucking it behind his ear. She just couldn't resist leaning forward and placing a feather-light kiss on Draco's slack lips.

He always tasted of ice and mint, and though it was cold and somewhat impersonal, it was Draco, and she loved it as she did him.

She pulled back a few inched and looked at him with that look that only mothers and lovers are capable of. That warm, devoted look that expressed the soul's deepest emotions that even they aren't aware of the cause or expression of. They simply can do it, and it was this look that Ginny applied unconsciously to Draco, in all it's splendor. It was the gaze of love, raw, pure, and wholesome.

It was at that moment that Draco's icy blue eyes, flecked with green and grey, opened. Ginny nearly jumped back, it was so sudden, and with quick understanding, she realized he hadn't been asleep at all.

"Draco, you are absolutely incorrigible." She said softly, unable to be cross with him at that moment. She merely smiled at him and lowered her lips to his. Draco's arms were shaking as he pulled her closer.

Ginny's knees hit the edge of the bed, and she fell forward, on top of Draco. To avoid slipping off the bed when they were having such a soft moment, Ginny slung one leg over Draco's midriff and leaned forward, in her present state completely unaware of how provocative their position was or of how much shit she would be in if any one of Draco's dorm mates should happen to enter the room.

Draco's tongue slid forward, touching her lips and skin so softly it tickled her wickedly. Ginny pulled back and nipped gently at his lower lip in that affectionate way that he found so enticing. She pressed her lips in tiny kisses along his chin and along his jaw, trailing them down to his throat and neck.

Draco pulled her face up to his and covered her mouth with his. Ginny's arms wrapped securely around Draco's neck as he sat up. Draco moaned in the back of his throat. Breaking away for a second to breathe, his lips went to her ear. "I love you, Gin."

Ginny pulled back, eyes soft and wide. Even though he'd said it several times, there was something in his voice that made her stop and want to cry. It was so tender, so sad, so heart-breakingly sweet.

Ginny smiled softly, feeling a heavy pressure on her heart as if it would break. "I- I love you, too Draco." She said, and even to her, her voice sounded beautiful, honest and true. She would have done anything to make him repeat the smile that lit up his face and eyes when she spoke.

His arms encircled her and somehow (Ginny never could figure out how it was physically possible) lifted the both of them off the bed and spun Ginny around several times, lifting her off her feet.

When he finally set her down, her eyes were bright and happy. Though they only repeated what they had said many times, it was if some unspoken understanding had gone between them. Some unforeseen maturation of their relationship that propounded it to a whole new level out of their reach. One that shouldn't have occurred for several years of a steady relationship. There was just something so absolute about them that they had gone through all the previous stages with unprecedented speed. They were living love as it is usually experienced in the early twenties. Draco sat her down on the edge of the bed and pulled out the box from under his pillow.

Kneeling in front of Ginny, he placed it on her lap gently, kissing her cheek softly as he did so. Ginny's heart caught in her throat at the familiar gesture. Checking herself, she forced herself to be calm. _It's not what I think, it's not what I think, it's not what I think…_ she though over and over as her hand reached out without her control and gently picked up the box.

"Open it." Draco urged, his own heart thudding painfully. Ginny obeyed, her long fingers prodding the lid open. Somehow a gasp managed to make its way around her heart and escape her throat. "Oh, my gods…Draco, it's…" she struggled to find the right words. "It's stunning." She finally gasped, knowing it was inadequate.

Draco merely smiled satisfactorily. Taking the ring from her loose grasp, he took her left hand in his. His eyes rose to meet hers. "Ginevra Therese Weasley, I love you. You're the only woman to ever capture my heart, and now it's entirely yours. That's not the question. What I'm asking is if I can have yours? I know that we're young and we haven't known each other for that long, but I'm asking for future reference. I'm willing to wait for as long as you want, but I have to at least ask you now."

Ginny's eyes widened as he slipped the ring on her appropriately named 'ring finger'. He took her hand in both of his. "What I'm asking is: Ginevra, will you marry me?"

For Ginny, it seemed like the entire world heard that question, and stopped with the sole purpose of hearing her answer. Though Ginny had always expected this kind of thing to be one that took a lot of thought and lore time and consideration than she had given it, she knew the answer, just as she knew that fire was hot, and ice was cold. She just knew it.

Because it just was.

Draco was staring at her with so much hope that she nearly broke into tears. She nodded once, words failing her as she actually did start crying. Eyes shining bright with falling tears, she smiled and laughed, nodding.

"Yes." She finally said, her voice wavering. Draco looked as though he could have performed a Patronus right then. Ginny grinned and laughed softly, nearly sobbing. "Yes." She repeated.

Draco stood so suddenly and awkwardly that he nearly fell over in his haste. Pulling Ginny up, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that could have rocked worlds. Ginny felt like she would fall soon; her knees were shaking so terribly and she felt weak all over.

Draco finally broke away, tears falling down his face as well. Ginny laughed happily and brushed away the tears from his face, kissing him over and over again. Draco laughed as well, crushing her to him, which was lucky, because at that moment, Ginny's legs gave out on her.

Draco held her close to him as if letting her go would lose her forever. Ginny laughed weakly and clung to him as desperately as he did to her. Draco pulled away from her for a second, tears still falling from both of them. Ginny smiled warmly and wiped away her tears. "I'm sorry, I'm just so…" words failed her. "Happy" seemed to weak of an emotion for what she felt.

But Draco seemed to understand her silent expression. He smiled softly at her with such tenderness to see coming from someone like him that tears fell anew down her cheeks. "I know." Draco whispered in her ear, brushing it with his lips. "I know." Ginny smiled happily and leaned against him.

Because he did know.

Heather awoke from a heavy and peaceful sleep with the air of one content with the world. For when she woke up, she was still in the land of dreams, and the problems she had to deal with in the day hours had not yet presented themselves to her consciousness.

It was several minutes after stretching and yawning sleepily that she remembered her tears and Blaise. She sat up in Ginny's bed with a gasp. Her chest, which had felt so light and free minutes before became clouded over with a heavy weight forced tears from her eyes, though it felt more like her heart was weeping.

"Blaise…" she whispered to no one, sobs falling from her lips as frequent as the icy tears from her eyes. She sat in he warm bed, shedding cold tears from a hot heart for another minute before pulling herself together, straightening her shoulders and wiping away her tears.

She took one deep breath, filling her lungs with air, and let it out slowly as if exhaling her problems. It didn't quite work, but she was able to stop crying and think rationally and calmly. And the first thing that came to mind was that she had to go see Blaise.

Standing resolutely, she smoothed out her clothes and pulled out a small pendant on a chain from the front of her robes. At the end of the chain was a little compass rose. Literally. The gold rose was centered by a silver cross, with N, S, E, and a W labeled at one of the four points.

Heather smiled at it fondly, the memories it brought forced a whole new wave of tears from her. After several more minutes taken controlling herself, she wiped away the fresh tears. Blaise had given her the necklace a couple of weeks ago as a present. His words had been so tender…

Sighing, Heather had to admit that the necklace had been a good idea. With them in two separate houses, they never knew where each other were, making maximum time together very low. So Blaise had come up with the Sweet Seeker.

Heather had rolled her eyes at the time, but now she truly appreciated the badly named charm piece. Pulling out her wand, she tapped the center of the compass rose. "Seek." She whispered. The end of her wand emitted a faint gold glow, which spread to the compass, lighting it up for a second.

As the glow died away, the East point remained brightly glowing. Heather nodded to herself and tucked both wand and necklace back to where they belonged. She quickly left the room and Gryffindor tower.

She had to check to necklace a few more times, and finally ended up in the library. She tucked away the necklace one last time and cast a glance around the seemingly deserted room. Finally, her eyes landed on a shady corner, where the silhouette of a hunched over student was barely visible.

Sighing heavily, she straightened herself and walked over to the corner table. As she approached, Blaise pulled his head up from his arms. Heather stopped walking to stare. He looked at least five years older, and his eyes looked dead. When he saw her, his eyes flickered with life for a second before resuming their funereal appearance.

"Go away." He said sharply. Heather frowned and bit her lip. Ignoring what he'd said, she sat down next to him. "Blaise." She whispered softly. Blaise grunted and shrugged away her comforting hand.

Heather felt a rush of anger, but even greater, a tidal wave of pain that drowned her. Tears prickled most annoyingly at her eyes and she had to stop herself for a few seconds to force them back. When she finally had herself under control, she faced Blaise again.

He was staring sullenly at the opposite wall, careful to avoid her gaze. "The Sweet Seeker?" he asked shortly, as if to minimize the time he had to spend talking to her. Heather sighed deeply and nodded. "Just goes to show most of what you do in life you later regret."

Heather felt the tears rising rebelliously again. "Do you regret me, Blaise?" she asked, astounded by the clarity and serenity projected in her voice. Blaise's head jerked up for a second, as if he was about to object, but thought better of it. Or remembered that he was supposed to be angry with her.

Heather reached out and touched his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off, but she wouldn't let him. "Blaise." She said, her voice naturally low and compelling. "Blaise, look at me." She said, though her words denoted a command, her tone of voice indicated weak and pitiful begging.

Without wanting to, and without realizing what he was doing until after he'd done it, he lifted his head and looked at her. He knew it had been a bad idea. Her eyes were watery and pleading, so sad on so many levels, Blaise wished he had never started this thing.

However kind he was to her, and different he was, he was first and foremost a Slytherin. And there was a certain amount of self-pride that came along with his house spot that he simply could not live down. She could not be right. Or more importantly, he could not be wrong.

Heather smiled weakly at him, and it nearly made Blaise forget all about moronic house pride. "Listen, Blaise. I have to admit I don't know why you're angry. I'm sorry if I said something to hurt you, and you must know that it wasn't meant in the way you took it. If you want to talk to me about it, please, I'm ready to listen and try to understand, and I'm already apologizing. If I'm in the wrong so be it. But are you ready to throw us away over something so trivial?" she finished, tears now flowing freely down her face.

Blaise stared at her in obvious admiration. She'd done it. What he couldn't do for her, she had given no second thoughts of doing for him. She laid herself out in the open for him, ready to take the blame, the rages, the responsibility, the mistake. She was ready to not only forgive him his fault (for it was his), but ready to take it on as her own.

Blaise fixed her with a look that signified his new-found appreciation and respect for her. "How are you so perfect?" He asked softly, leaning in to take her in a crushing embrace. Heather let out a deep sigh as her slender arms encircled his broad back.

This was how things should be…

Ginny sat on the edge of Draco's bed in complete shock and almost as complete silence, staring down thoughtfully at the ring that signified so much, that would change everything she knew and would know and was and would be. It was the destruction of her past and the creation of her future. Their future. It was all that she'd ever wanted and all that she'd never even dared to dream of. It was so much more than anyone would ever see it to be.

Draco was standing over her, casting wary glances at her every few seconds. After the initial excitement and emotional display, Ginny had sunk wearily down onto the bed and had not moved since. She seemed to be in a deep trance, her eyes lost and vacant, suggesting she was somewhere else.

Somewhere that she created to escape to. Somewhere that Draco didn't have access to. Somewhere where he couldn't find her. She was there, but in a strange sense, she was far away, dealing with things that Draco didn't risk thinking of, for fear of a painful brain aneurism or something of the sort.

One of the first things he'd learned from his time with Pansy was never, under any circumstances, ever attempt to disassemble or even vaguely understand a woman's mind. It was a task more dangerous than getting between a dragon and its eggs, or Ron and fudge.

Sensing that Ginny merely needed some time to visit that place of hers and try to identify her thoughts and get them in order, Draco allowed her time. After all, what he had proposed was quite a big thing. Redundantly, it was a proposal.

After many long minutes, Ginny finally looked up at Draco, her eyes full of tears. His chest clenched. Could she possibly be having second thoughts? He tried to calm himself, and succeeded to the degree that outwardly he seemed totally indifferent. However, on the inside, he was driving himself mad with perpetual bombardments of 'what ifs'.

Ginny smiled weakly and Draco forced himself to swallow and cock an eyebrow. "Having a moment's indecision about the commitments of marriage?" he asked, marveling at how well he could fool himself that he was in control.

Ginny grinned wryly and stood, her arms sliding around his waist and pulling him closer. "Just wishing there wasn't another year and a half to wait." She smiled softly. "I want it so much, and yet, it kind of scares me." She admitted, looking down. Draco smiled and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Thank god." He whispered huskily, the weight vanishing from his chest.

Ginny sighed appreciatively and buried her face into Draco's silky smooth robes. "I don't know how I'm going to survive next year." She said suddenly. Draco glanced down at the crown of her head. "I mean, I won't get to see you for a whole year. What will you do? Where will you be? Will you-" she stopped, biting her lip. She was going to say 'Will you think about me?', but couldn't.

She knew Draco cared for her, to some degree. And she trusted him completely. But her past experience with men had skewed her vision on things, and she couldn't help feeling that if he were to leave for a year, he might forget her, find someone prettier, or more like him, or more mature. After all, he was one that didn't do too shabbily with women.

Ginny sighed. Draco noticed it, as he noticed everything about her. "What is it?" he asked immediately, watching her eyes carefully as they lifted to regard him with an evasive glance. "What?" she asked, her voice far too normal, far too innocent.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You know perfectly well 'what'. Come on, spill." He commanded, poking her side gently. Ginny squirmed in his arms. "Nothing, it was stupid." She shook her head, flushing slightly. Draco sighed and let her go. "Fine." He said brusquely, putting on his best I'm-angry-but-I-won't-let-you-see-that look.

Ginny turned and softened. "Don't take it personally. I just…wanted to know if you'd be thinking about me." She said sheepishly, frowning at herself. She hated those girls who always asked their boyfriends stupid questions like 'do you really love me?' or even worse, 'do you think I'm beautiful?'. So needy.

Apparently Draco thought so as well, because he arched one slim, pale eyebrow at her question. "Are you seriously asking me that?" he asked. Ginny flamed a brilliant color red and nodded sheepishly. Draco laughed and shook his head.

Turning around to look directly at her, he grasped her shoulders. "Gin, how can you even ask a question like that? Every single day I'm gone will be hell without you. I'm starting to miss you already, and I'm still here. I honestly don't know how I'm going to last a whole year without seeing you everyday or touching you whenever I want or kissing you-"

"All the time." Ginny smirked bemusedly.

Draco shrugged, grinning. "That too." He waggled his eyebrows. Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm even going to miss you making fun of me and rolling your eyes at me. I'm going to miss our verbal sparring matches, our long talks on the most obscure things, and just spending every spare moment with you." Ginny felt her body being tugged into his arms, and she let herself fall into them with the satisfactory security that she would be caught.

"I'll miss you every minute." Ginny whispered sadly. Draco nodded and smoothed her hair gently. "I know." Ginny laughed derisively. "You know everything Mr. Malfoy." Draco stared down at her, feeling not for the first time how right she felt in his arms. Temporarily distracted, he came up with the first thing his mind handed to him.

"I know."


	25. Just an Ordinary Day

**Author's Note:** Wow! I'm so thrilled! I've hit 150 reviews! So, in appreciation, I've decided to post chapter 25 early. Be warned, don't expect anohter chapter for quite some time. Although, maybe if you're lucky I'll do some writing in L.A. So, on with the story. No plot developments here, just light-hearted goodness. (Eww...fluff...ew! -shrieks and runs to bathroom with hand over mouth-...not too far from the truth, either...) I'm home sick on Sunday after missing 2 bloody soccer games. Stupid effing throat infection...I've poured everything liquid down my throat-yes, even icky TheraFlu, but nothing helps. Grrr. So maybe I'll stay home from school tomorrow and update. Ha. And Tom Felton will fall madly in love with me. (Tom Felton plays Draco in the movies- normally I don't find many boys that attractive because I'm a stuborn 14 year-old antiromanticist-but Tom Felton is THE eye-candy epitome).

**Disclaimer:** not mine, wish it was, but all I own is the threadbare plot.

* * *

****

**Dancing Life **

**Chapter 25: Just an Ordinary Day

* * *

**

The next day was Sunday. While almost every other student was out enjoying the uncommonly good, warm weather, there were at least four who were working furiously away.

Skye had once again let the two odd couples take complete control over the dance room for a few hours. "Hell,…erm…heck…none of the others are doing anything nearly this complicated. I think your two dances will be the thrills of the night. Aside from that one with those four girls…that looks pretty good. But they've already practiced theirs." Skye had explained before dashing off to go do some 'shopping' in Hogsmeade.

They had danced their feet off. Blaise and Heather had finished first and continued to watch Ginny and Draco whilst massaging their aching feet. They had to admit, the couple did have something special.

And finally, they were finished. The dances were perfected and memorized. Their costumes were nearly done, and the music was sorted out. Now they had the rest of the day to enjoy themselves.

Blaise and Heather had gone off to the lake, promising to be back by late afternoon to eat together (something they always did as a group), leaving Draco and Ginny to themselves in the library, their favorite place to spend time.

Draco was currently lying stretched out on a wooden bench in the corner, his arm resting lazily on his knee. Rolling his eyes, he turned to the mountain of books beside him that was Ginny. "Honestly, Gin. N.E.W.T.s are ages off. Give it a break and get over here." He said, pouting slightly.

Ginny's messy head didn't rise an inch. "Hang on a tick, Draco. Just let me finish this section…" she told her book, which her nose was nearly touching.

Draco mumbled something incoherent that, had Ginny heard, would have probably bought him a swift kick in the seat. Instead, he let his head drop back on the bench. Turning his head sideways, his eyes widened and gleamed wickedly. His hand snaked out under the table to hover just above her knee.

Holding back a snigger, his hand moved up, so that it was just over her thigh. Her pleated skirt had ridden up, exposing bare skin up to that point. Draco bit his lip, holding in laughter, and with a final smug smirk, grabbed her leg sharply.

Ginny's eyes bugged open at the sudden pinch, and her knee jerked up automatically. "Draco!" she gasped, as he disappeared under the table in another fit of laughter. Ginny's hair fell into her eyes, which were fuming. "You-you-you, spiteful, sneaky, good-for-nothing, low-life, scoundrel, thieving, conniving, overzealous deviant of a bastard!" she exploded, slapping him playfully with every word.

Draco held up his hands in defeat. "I surrender! I surrender! Just don't kill me!" he laughed, managing to grasp her flailing hands and tug her closer. Not expecting the sudden move, Ginny fell forward. She landed on Draco's chest, her elbow smacking him in the face.

"Sorry, Draco." She said sweetly, digging her elbow maliciously in his face.

"Bugger." Draco hissed, grabbing her elbows and pulling her closer. Ginny was in an awkward position, leaning half-over Draco's head, staring down at him the wrong way around.

Perfect snogging range, though.

Ginny lowered her mouth to his, their lips melding together. Draco's thin ones gently caressed her fuller, pliable ones. Ginny's tongue reached out to flick his and Draco smiled as he pulled a few inches away.

"I just can't seem to stop kissing you." He whispered huskily. Ginny laughed and added wryly: "Does it look like I mind?" before pressing her lips to his again.

They would have doubtless stayed like that for many more minutes, had it not been for a sudden, unwanted and aggravatingly persistent red-headed interruption. Both heard the library doors slamming open, and Madame Pince's disapproving warning before an obnoxiously loud voice pulled them apart.

"AH! GINNY? GINNY? Has anyone seen my sister? GINNY? GINNY? How can you not know who Ginny Weasley is? Come on! Tall, skinny red-head with brown eyes, answers to the name Ging-"

"RONALD WEASLEY!" Ginny broke in loudly, flying up in her seat. "It is so imperative to your health that you not finish that sentence! If you value your life, I suggest you drag your sorry arse over here NOW and shut your gob!" Ginny growled as Ron ran over and plopped down into the seat beside her, across from Draco (whom he hadn't seen yet).

"Ginny! Ginny!" he cried nervously, waving a piece of parchment in his hand. "Mum sent me a letter! She's- you're- they're-oh, it's just awful! Bloody hell!" he gasped, submitting the letter to Ginny's snatching and clawing hands.

Ginny's eyes scanned over the letter as she read the main points out loud under her breath.

"Dear Ron, how are you…how's school going…Hermione…get your sweater...how's Gin…heard about dance…don't tell her…we're coming…bringing the twins…and- WE'RE COMING?" Ginny's large eyes snapped back to the sentence she'd barely grasped.

Draco sat up faster than lightning. Ignoring Ron (who yelped in surprise and fell back in his seat), he glanced over Ginny's shoulder at the letter. "Oh, shit." Ginny whispered shakily. "She's coming. So's Dad. And they're bringing the twins."

"For the dance?" Draco practically shouted as Ron righted his chair and sat back down, glancing furtively around the library to make sure no one had caught his fall. A Hufflepuff on the other side of the room giggled at him. He flushed red and turned to Ginny.

"Apparently, Skye sent out owls to all the parents, inviting them to come watch the performance." Ron explained.

"Is she insane?" Draco and Ginny bellowed at the same time. "They can't come!" "We can't do the dance!" Ginny began panting, speculating wildly. "Oh my gods, if the twins find out, they'll kill you! Well, maybe not, but Mum and Dad will! Oh!" she leaned forward suddenly as Draco allowed her to rest her head on his chest.

His slender, pale hand came up to rub her back soothingly. "Hey, Gin. It's alright. We'll figure something out." Ginny shook her head stubbornly as fat tears leaked from her eyes. "They wouldn't understand. They'll never let me see you."

Draco grinned down at her. "They'll have to accept me. I'm their future son-in-law." While this had a cheering and calming effect on Ginny, Ron looked absolutely nauseous, green with disgust. "I'm just going to walk away and pretend I didn't hear that." He said weakly, standing and running as fast as he could towards the nearest bathroom, accompanied by Ginny's high-spirited laughter.

Draco watched the racing red-head with a speculative gaze. "You know, for a filthy poor Weasley, he's not too bad." He commented dryly, blocking Ginny's fist from reaching it's destination of his stomach.

"Yeah, and he thinks you're not too bad for a filthy rich Malfoy…or else he'd be trying to kill you." Ginny shook her head, her lips fostering a grin. "I still can't believe how well he's taking this. You know, I would have bet on the twins, or perhaps Charlie…_maybe_ Bill understanding. But Ron? I would have expected him to be on Mum and Dad's side."

Draco nodded. "I must admit, that had to have been the surprise of the century." He agreed. "You mean, apart from you falling in love with a Weasley?" Ginny asked teasingly. Draco rolled his eyes. "That's no surprise. What _is_ is that no did before me."

Ginny blushed charmingly. "You are horrible for my ego, Draco Malfoy." She said, swatting his hand. Draco grinned and kissed the top of her head. "A healthy dose of self-appreciation is never a bad thing." He recited.

Ginny turned her face up to him. "Why do I have the sneaking suspicion that's some sort of Malfoy motto?" she inquired dryly. Draco pulled a face and tugged on a strand of hair at the base of her neck. "Watch it, Weasley." He whispered in her ear, his playful, teasing tone belying the good-nature of his words.

"Hey, I just tell it like it is." Her hands raised in an innocent shrug.

"Funny, I haven't heard you day anything about dashingly handsome good-looks, a flatteringly charming personality, or one hell of a nice arse." He smirked pompously.

Ginny fluttered her eyelashes. "I was getting to it." She defended, then grinned caustically at him. "Well, the nice arse bit, anyway." She laughed as Draco turned around to look at his seat. "You know, you're right…it _is_ a nice arse." He exclaimed wondrously.

Ginny smacked him sharply. "You are such a pompous git." She scolded softly. Draco grinned. "So I've been told. But it only adds to the vastness of the Draco charm." He said smugly, leaning back in his chair with a grin that rendered him so much like Croonkshanks (when he finally managed to catch a mouse) that it struck Ginny as absolutely comical. She had to laugh.

"What?" Draco asked, leaning forward as Ginny practically fell forward in laughter, ducking under the table to avoid Madame Pince's admonitory glare. "You-you looked l-like Hermione's cat!" Ginny gasped, finally lifting her head above the table, cheeks flushed with laughter.

"I looked like Granger's cat?" Draco arched an eyebrow while subtly trying to check for signs of some sort of illness in the still-giggling red-head. "Have you lost it?" he asked suddenly. Ginny grinned with the good-natured after-effects of laughing. "Who says I ever had it to begin with?"

Draco grinned. "Good point." His grin slid fluidly into a frown. "So, about the dance…" he began. Ginny shook her head, also frowning. "Let's not talk about it right now, alright?" she asked, lowering her head to her arms tiredly. Draco nodded and went back to his book, absentmindedly rubbing Ginny's back with one hand.

Harry was walking quickly down to the hospital wing. Pomfrey was letting Dean out today. Well, more like kicking him out. Harry liked Dean and all, but he knew (as well as Madame Pomfrey) when someone was going a little overboard. Dean did have a penchant for the dramatic…

Harry finally found himself in the hospital wing. He entered the dimly lit room and headed straight over to Dean's bed. The young man was lying down, and when he saw Harry approaching, he pulled his face into a grimace and clutched his chest.

"Ooh…" he moaned convincingly as Harry dumped his bag in an available chair. "Ooh, my chest…oh, it hurts like hell…" he moaned again and Harry had to roll his eyes. Madame Pomfrey could mend bones in her sleep, and that's all Dean's "grievous" injuries were; a few broken ribs and a sprained wrist. Still, Dean insisted he was going to die to anyone who would listen. "I don't think I can make it much longer, Harry. The pain…the pain is so much…" he repeated, closing his eyes.

Harry simply scoffed and nudged him. "Come on Dean, you're fine. Pomfrey said you were clear to go yesterday. So pick yourself up and let's go." he said, surprising himself with his shortness. Usually he wasn't so snappish, but Dean was beginning to get on his nerves and if he was going to whine and moan all day long, Harry had better things to do.

Dean pulled a face, but nonetheless stood, mumbling something under his breath. Without waiting, Harry turned around and marched out of the room, not bothering to look back and see if Dean was following. Heavy footsteps behind him told him that he was.

"Harry, wait!" Dean huffed, pulling up alongside Harry, whose long legs were carrying him faster and faster back to Gryffindor. "Wait, slow down, mate. What if I wear myself out or faint from exhaustion, or…"

Harry was spared from having to listen to death predictions that would have made Professor Trelawny beam by two girls who rounded the corner just ahead of them. As soon as Dean saw Lavender and Pavarti, he assumed a tragically heroic face and swaggered forward.

Immediately the two girls were on him. "Oh dear, you poor thing." They crooned, fussing over him and taking his books in their arms. Lavender linked her arms with his and Pavarti rubbed his back soothingly. "How did you ever manage to make it all the way down here?" Lavender sympathized.

Harry rolled his eyes once more and disappeared behind a tapestry. He didn't want to listen to this. Dean was in good hands. Literally.

Not noticing that the dark-haired wizard had left them, the trio continued walking at a slow rate, stopping every once in a while to fret over Dean. Lavender turned to him with a malicious gleam in her eyes. "You poor dear," she began "why, it was just horrible what they did. I mean, you could have been killed! You could have died! They're just horrible, horrible people." Pavarti grinned behind Dean's back. It was not a very nice grin.

Dean turned to Lavender. "What do you mean 'they'? Who's they?" Lavender put on a mask of shock. "You mean, you didn't know?" she gasped and Parvati followed suit. Dean cocked an eyebrow and looked back and forth between them. "Know what?" he asked.

Parvati grasped his hand. "Well, you know how Malfoy and Ginny have been messing around, yeah?" she started, smirking evilly at Lavender behind Dean's back again. Dean shook his head. "I thought they were just…well, you know…dating." He said slowly. It was Lavender's turn to shake her head. "What else would someone like Malfoy want with a girl like Ginny? I mean, she's not all that pretty." She mused and Parvati nodded in agreement. Dean also nodded. Why hadn't he ever realized that Ginny wasn't very good-looking before?

Lavender smiled at his nod. They had him believing anything they said. It was a gift of theirs and they loved it. "Well, I'm not sure really, but I heard from someone" she shot a glance at Pavarti, who grinned "that Ginny asked Malfoy to do something to you. She was mad at you or something. And he was jealous because you and Ginny used to go out, and you're so handsome." She swooned melodramatically. Pavarti stifled a laugh as Dean's chest swelled. "So after the game, he took a shot at you." She ended, smirking self-satisfactorily.

"Wow." Dean commented. Lavender nodded sensitively. "I know. And poor Ginny." She started on her final tack, turning meaningfully to Pavarti, who took up the thread. "Yeah, poor Gin. Malfoy's rubbing off on her. She's got to be so depressed." She smiled. She actually sounded caring towards Ginny. Ha! Last time that little upstart bitch talked down to her. She glanced over at Lavender, who nodded, her thoughts running along the same lines.

"Hey, I've got a great idea!" Lavender said suddenly, as if the thought had just occurred to her, and not like she and Pavarti had stayed up all night thinking of how to get back at Ginny and Malfoy. "Dean, why don't you go out with Ginny? I mean, she can't be happy with Malfoy, and you two were so cute together. Of course, anyone would be cute with you." She fluttered her eyelashes flatteringly. "What do you think? I'm sure she'd be happier with you, don't you think so, Pavarti?" she turned to her partner-in-gossip, who managed to pull the snigger of her lips in time to look thoughtful.

"Yeah, that would be great!" she agreed. Dean nodded at them, deep in thought. Of course Ginny would be happier with him. She couldn't be happy with Malfoy. And now that she was probably shagging Malfoy, she wouldn't have any objections to doing the same for him. After all, wasn't that what broke them up in the first place? Or was it that stupid little Rambinski bint? Either way, of course Ginny would be dying to have him back. She was going out with Malfoy, after all.

"Yeah." He said to himself, and Pavarti and Lavender disengaged. Their work was done. "Well, we just wanted to make sure you're alright. Talk to you later!" Pavarti said and Lavender waved off. They walked down a different hall, sharing a wicked grin.

Harry strolled lazily into the library, searching for something to do. He found a couple of books on Quidditch and made his way over to the back tables. He went to the one in the corner and stopped, grinning.

Draco was deeply immersed in his book and didn't notice him. Ginny was fast asleep against Draco's chest, her arms wrapped securely around his waist and a soft smile on her lips.

Harry walked closer and sank down at the table across from them. Draco looked up from his book, and instead of the customary sneer, he merely regarded Harry with a glance and greeted him with a "Hullo, Harry."

Harry nodded at him. "So, how are things going with you two?" he asked softly, nodding at the sleeping Ginny. Draco's gaze hardened as he turned it on Harry. "Why? Sniffing around Ginny again?" Harry grinned as Draco's arm came up protectively to Ginny's back.

"No, I just like to know that my friends are happy, that's all." He shrugged, sitting back in his seat. "Besides, I'm kind of going out with this Ravenclaw girl." He smiled satisfactorily at the thought of his girlfriend.

Draco relaxed, though he still kept an arm around the sleeping Ginny. "Oh. Sorry." He said automatically, going back to his book. His head snapped up at the same time Harry had to stop himself from falling out of his seat. Had Draco really just apologized to Harry?

Harry stared, wide-eyed for a moment before breaking into laughter. Ginny stirred and he clapped a hand over his mouth. After calming himself down, he grinned sheepishly at Draco. "Sorry. Seems that our Gin's been having quite an affect on you. I must admit I'd never thought I'd live to see the day when you apologize." He shook his head and Draco had to grin. "That makes two of us." He quipped.

Harry grinned again. How odd it was that he didn't have to try that hard to be friendly towards Draco? Of course, if it had been difficult, he would have tried anyway just to make Ginny happy, but it really wasn't that much of a challenge once he started talking to him. Even Hermione approved.

"Oh well, the main reason I came down here was because I was bored, but I was hoping to find you. Or at least Ginny. Dean was finally kicked out of the hospital wing today." He rolled his eyes behind his glasses. "Well, I just wanted to say…even though I agree with Ginny that you shouldn't have done it…none of us (he referred to the Golden Trio and the rest of Ginny's Gryffindor friends) think you were wrong. Dean's an arse. I used to think he was just an O.K. guy, but…" he shrugged again. "I just wanted to say thanks." He stood, as if to leave, but Draco stopped him.

"Thanks for what?" he asked. Harry turned to him and shrugged. "For taking care of Ginny. Don't take this the wrong way, but I really do care for her. She's my best mate's little sister. I've practically grown up with her. I'm like part of their family. When I found out about Dean…" his face went dark "…when I found out about Dean, I was shocked and upset. But I didn't do anything about it. Neither did Ron, which was fairly shocking. We should have. That's the problem, we should have."

He sat down again, and looked a few years older, his face etched with grief. "Ginny's Ron's only sister. She's the youngest and weakest. We've always fussed over her and made sure she was alright. And she always ignored us and told us to back off her. So we did." He put his head in his hands. "This time we shouldn't have. So thanks, for doing something about it. If Dean ever does anything to her again, he'll have the entire Weasley family down on him." He growled angrily.

Draco nodded understandingly and glanced down at the girl in his arms. Harry watched as his features changed and softened almost unconsciously. "You really love her, don't you?" He asked. Draco nodded without looking up and Harry had the opportunity to watch a smile grace his features. "Yeah. I do." He said simply.

He turned to Harry suddenly and gave him a strong, sturdy, unwavering look. Should he tell him? Suddenly he nodded, almost to himself. "I asked her to marry me." He said after a moment.

This time Harry didn't have the sense of mind to stop himself from falling back in his chair. Draco stared at the empty space where Harry had just been for a moment before his dark, shaggy head popped back up to stare at Draco most openly. "YOU WHAT?" he finally regained use of his vocal chords.

Madame Pince shot him her best vulture glare and he disappeared sheepishly under the table before resurfacing warily. He stared at Draco, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging open about a foot. "You what!" he hissed. Draco smiled down at the pair of green eyes hidden behind glasses that were peeking over the table. "I asked her to marry me." He repeated. "Not now of course, but after she's finished with school. If she still feels the same way." He shrugged.

"And what did she say?" Harry gaped.

"I said yes." Draco and Harry both jumped and stared down at the red-haired girl who was gazing steadily at Harry with wide brown eyes. Draco bit his lip and had he been brought up to understand humility, he would have blushed. "Hi Gin." He said, almost shakily. Ginny lifted her head and placed her lips firmly on Draco's. Breaking away she grinned. "I'm not mad." She assured him. "Actually, I'm quite glad you told him. It means a lot to me. Now I get to tell mum, dad, and all my brothers." She said wearily.

Harry reached out and touched her shoulder gently. Draco stiffened, but said nothing for her sake. "Hey, Ginny. It'll be fine in the end. Ron understands, Hermione understands, I understand. I'm sure the twins will be glad you're dating someone about as evil as they are. Bill and Charlie will come around eventually. Percy…well, who cares about Percy…uh, just kidding" he added as Ginny shot him a withering glance "and your mum and dad will just have to get used to it. Besides, you know your mum. She's hopelessly romantic. Once she sees how in love you two are, she'll give in, and with the rest of your family alright, your dad's bound to come around eventually." Harry finished.

Ginny had to laugh. "Thanks Harry. And you know what? If they don't get over it, to hell with them. It's my life." She said stubbornly, burrowing her head farther into Draco's chest. Harry took this as a sign to leave.

"Well, I've said what I came to say. I think I'll be off now. Maybe I can find my delicious girlfriend and-"

"-do something I really don't want to hear about." Ginny finished for him, her eyes closing once more in sleep. Harry grinned and with a wave to Draco, walked from the library. Draco was about to go back to his book when Ginny's voice, half-slurred with sleep broke into his thoughts. "Be honest. You didn't mind talking to him." She yawned happily. Draco rolled his eyes. "I did not, I just did it to make you happy." Ginny scoffed sleepily. "You didn't even know I was awake." She protested. Draco grinned. "Fine, I didn't mind it so much. Satisfied?" he asked sarcastically.

But Ginny didn't answer. She was asleep again. And as Draco went back to his book, he realized that she wouldn't have to hear his answer. She already knew.

"Ginny?" Draco prodded the sleeping red-head gently. "Ginny, wake up." He whispered softly. Ginny made no move to open her eyes. "Go away." She mumbled sleepily, swatting away his hand. "Ginny, wake up. We have to go eat with Blaise and Heather." Ginny yawned. "I'm tired. They can bloody well wait." She yawned again.

"Thanks, Gin."

"Yeah, you're loads of fun."

"Nice to know where our loyalty stands."

"Or where it sleeps."

Ginny groaned. "Draco, you might have mentioned they were already here." She fought back a playful grin. "What, and miss that? Not bloody likely." He laughed. Ginny finally opened her eyes and regarded Draco with a sneaking glance. He glanced down at her eyes, which were glowing amber, almost golden, and again marveled at the range of colors her eyes expressed.

He knew this color, however, so it was not new. This was that I'm-feeling-playful-so-be-careful-about-what-you-eat-or-drink-or-do look. And indeed, her eyes were glinting playfully. "Don't even." He said, his eyes closed, as she reached up to poke him. The childish grin slipped off her face. "Spoilsport." She stuck out her tongue.

"Infant." He didn't even have to open his eyes to know she was sticking her tongue out at him.

"Oh, not this again." the couple glanced up at Heather. The young witch rolled her eyes. "If they're going to start this, it could be weeks before we get to go eat."

Blaise grinned. "Let it never be said that an extensive vocabulary can't bring about starvation."

Ginny laughed and stood, stretching. "That was a nice nap." She turned to Draco, who was standing up beside her. "You make a great pillow." Draco grinned and leered suggestively at her.

"I didn't mean like that, you perverted wanker!" Ginny said, smacking the back of his head.

"Abusive sadistic."

"NOT NOW!" Blaise and Heather said in unison, clapping their hands over the couple's mouths.

"Right. Since you two are taking so bloody long, we'll give you a little push in the right direction." Heather said, her hand clapped firmly over Ginny's mouth, restricting the girl's laughter. Draco merely rolled his eyes over Blaise's hand.

Steering Draco and Ginny out of the library, Blaise and Heather lead them through the castle, earning them many odd stares. Not like they cared. Finally, they emerged from behind yet another tapestry to a deserted hallway. There was one door at the very end with light spilling out from under it, and it was that room which Blaise and Heather shoved Ginny and Draco in before walking in themselves.

Ginny stumbled into Draco and the pair fell to the floor. Ginny was laughing uncontrollably and Draco merely leaned back and watched his lovely red-head with fascination. Blaise rolled his eyes and Heather cleared her throat. "Food's waiting, if you're interested." She said, walking over to a table in the corner. Blaise followed suit and eventually they were joined by Draco and Ginny.

"What's for dinner tonight?" Ginny asked eagerly, sitting down in the most unladylike fashion, one leg drawn up in her seat with her arm slung casually over it. Draco cast her a glance and she reluctantly pulled her leg down and slumped in her chair. Another look and she was sitting up straight. So much for him being wrapped around her finger...

"Italian." Blaise said, dispelling the cover on the food with a flick of his wand. Spaghetti and meatballs, fettuccini alfredo, ravioli, garlic bread and a salad beckoned to the four hungry teens. Ginny sniffed in the aroma and sighed appreciatively. "Aahh, I love it when the house elves cook Italian." Blaise laughed, spooning spaghetti and meatballs onto his plate. "You love it when the house elves cook Spanish." He corrected. "And when they cook Chinese." Heather added, breaking a piece of garlic bread in half. "And when they cook Indian…" Draco added, throwing a dry noodle at her, which she ate, holding up her hands. "Alright, I get your point. Weasley trait number five: we love all food. Lots of it."

They laughed and continued to eat in an atmosphere of general good cheer. There were no insults, no bad-feelings, and almost no sarcasm. Almost. The sarcasm that was present was good-natured and mostly all in fun. It was almost and hour later when, all food eaten, that the four teens sat back in their chairs, satiated and happy.

The conversation was still going strong. Ginny and Heather were holding a discussion on music, to which Blaise and Draco were listening intently. Ginny was currently nodding to what Heather said, agreeing, but still having a point to put across.

"Yeah, the wizading bands of this time are alright, but they stole a lot of their material from muggle bands." Heather nodded. "I know. But half of the wizarding population has a preconceived idea of muggles. They'd never listen to a muggle band."

Ginny nodded and yawned. "Point taken." She yawned again. "I think the only thing more exhausted than this topic is me." She said sleepily. Blaise was also trying to hold back a yawn. "I think it's time we called it a night." He said, standing from where he'd been lying on a couch. Heather also stood, wrapping her arm around Blaise's waist and waving good-bye to the remaining couple, left the room to say good-bye properly.

Draco tuned to Ginny, who was already beginning to fall asleep. "Hey." He said, nudging her gently. Her eyes opened softly. "Why are you so tired?" Ginny yawned apologetically. "S-sorry, Draco. I didn't really get any sleep last night. I was up thinking." She smiled contentedly and rose from her seat, taking only enough steps to lead her to him before collapsing next to him on the loveseat, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her cheek on his chest.

"About what?" Draco asked. Ginny closed her eyes again. "You. Me. Us." She mumbled, sleep overtaking her. Draco smiled as she fell asleep. He sat there for quite a while, his fingers absentmindedly running through her hair, thinking about everything that had happened in the past few months. Odd, how in just a few months with a few chance happenings, his life had fallen into place. He sat thinking about how things might have been different if his father had never been caught. If Voldemort hadn't been killed. If Blaise had never managed to convince him to take the dance class. If Ginny had never kissed him and stood up to him. If he had never seen her as he now saw her.

Blessing his good luck, he finally stood. Stretching he turned to Ginny to wake her up. When he saw her, though, he found he couldn't wake her. She was asleep on her side, her legs curled up and one arm under her head. Her lips were parted slightly, smiling even in sleep. Her short hair had grown out a bit, so that it now fell in her eyes. All in all, when Draco looked down at her, he saw the epitome of perfection, whereas anyone else would have seen a sleeping girl.

He glanced once more at her before gathering her in his arms. She was lighter than anything, and had he not cared about her comfort, he could have easily slung her over his shoulder. As it was, he cradled her in his arms and carried her out of the room. Her arms came up in sleep and wrapped around his neck.

And so he carried her all the way back to Gryffindor tower. At the portrait of the Fat Lady, she merely glanced at them, smiled warmly, and opened. Draco walked in, stunned and gently deposited Ginny on the sofa in the common room, tucking her hair behind her ears and kissing her once on the forehead.

"Goodnight, Ginny." He said softly and left the common room. Once out, he turned once to the Fat Lady and bowed deeply. Then he was gone, to sleep in his own room, though his thoughts would be in the Gryffindor common room, with the red-haired girl he had just left.


	26. A Storm: the Tempest

**Author's Note: **I'm baaaaacccckkkk! Miss me? Don't answer that, I'm far too euphoric to be bothered with people telling me they didn't realize I was gone. So, for any and none of those of you interested in this piece of shite, here's the next installment. RATED 'R' FOR THEMATIC ELEMENTS. Always wanted to say that. Oh, and to **Ebonydiva2208 ...**I did say Heather had ebony skin, didn't I? Stupid Kelsey, this is why we don't write twelve Fan-Fics at the same time. CHARACTER CONFUSION! Sorry...I hadn't meant for Heather to be, but if that's how you took my description, go for it; it doesn't really matter. If you want to imagine her with neon green skin, go ahead; it's all you. I only provide the writing, horrible though it is. So, without further ado...here.

******Disclaimer: **Not mine.**

* * *

**

* * *

******Dancing Life **

******Chapter 26: A Storm: the Tempest after the Calm

* * *

**

Ginny was finding it very hard to concentrate on not shoving her plate of eggs straight into Ron's big, round, cheerfully boyish, stupid big brother face. Her knuckles were turning white where she was grasping onto the edge of her plate and her hands were shaking, though practically unnoticeably.

'Practically' as in her eggs were jumping all over her plate and almost everyone but Ron was noticing. He was just sitting there, shoveling bacon and toast into his wide mouth with the most alarming alacrity without really looking at her, talking enthusiastically to a sleepy Harry and an uninterested Hermione.

"At first I was a little worried because mum's _always_ nagging at me for something or another. But then I realized that with Dad and the twins there…she'd be a bit better about it. Not to mention she's going to have kittens when she finds out about Ginny and Malfoy."

"Draco." Hermione corrected automatically. Ron stopped, his fully-loaded fork halfway to his already nearly overflowing mouth. He swallowed. "Right." He rolled his eyes and then proceeded to spoon more food into his mouth.

"I mean, she'll be too busy yelling at Ginny that she won't have time to bother me about that detention from Snape I got last week." Ron said cheerfully, not taking heed of the death glare Ginny was shooting him.

Hermione, however, caught the glance. "Ron, you deserved that detention." Ron's eyes widened comically, bacon hanging from his full mouth. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, you did! D'you think I'd be advocating Snape just for thrills? I hate the man about as much as you do, but what do you expect him to do when you blow up frog liver in his face?"

Ron chewed and stared moodily down at his plate. "Not like it made any difference, the slimy grease ball fairy-" Hermione's foot suddenly twitched uncontrollably, meeting Ron's knee sharply. Ron nearly sprayed half the Gryffindor table with eggs as he dove under the table to nurse his throbbing joint.

Hermione snuck a grin at Ginny, who caught it in a sideways glance and had to cram her mouth with eggs to keep from smiling.

Ron resurfaced from under the table, a typical What-the-hell-was-that-for scowl on his face. He opened his mouth to begin a row with Hermione, who was suddenly finding her muffin _extremely_ interesting. Most of the Gryffindor table braced themselves for an explosive Ron-Hermione spat, and some even began setting up protective shelters made up of books and notebooks and other people. Food was destined to fly in their fights.

Ginny was just wishing she hadn't worn her new robes when someone plopped down between her and Ron, diverting his and Hermione's attention. Ginny glanced up as Dean smiled good-naturedly at her.

She could actually feel the blood draining from her face, flowing ice-cold through her veins. She felt it all settle somewhere in the pit of her stomach, and she felt a sudden, unexpected wave of nausea hit her.

Dean hadn't dared come this close to her in two years. And Ron was gaping at him, his menial quarrel with Hermione temporarily forgotten. Ginny stiffened frigidly as Dean shifted to turn more towards her, his knee brushing her leg. The touch sent electric volts up and down her entire leg,…but not the good kind the likes of Draco caused…these were positively repulsive.

She fought the impulse to slap his leg away, and instead simply tucked her legs to her side. Lavender Brown, on her other side, glanced over at her irritably when Ginny's knees bumped into her legs, but upon seeing the scene unfolding in front of her, her eyes lit up and she nudged Parvati beside her.

Ginny was completely unaware of any of this. Her entire focus was on Dean and it took all her willpower not to shake. She felt the trembles gliding through her; under her skin, through her veins, around her joints, pounding in her head and chest until she wanted to break down and submit to them.

Still her hands remained firmly immobile on the table, though her fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Her face was a blank mask, and she fought hard to keep it that way.

She hadn't felt this horrid about him since that first few months after the incident. But now, with him sitting casually down next to her as if nothing had ever happened, she felt fourteen again; scared stiff but too unsure to do anything but sit motionless.

Dean grinned affably at her, unaware of her discomfort. True, she wasn't beaming at him or swooning, but he supposed that was just because she was afraid of what Malfoy would do.

"Hey Gin." He said offhandedly. Ginny felt like a mound of sand had welled up in her mouth, and she swallowed with some difficulty. "Look, I was just wondering if you'd like to go to this dance bit with me." Ginny stared at him uncomprehendingly.

What in Godric's name was going on? Had they not split up? Had he not attacked her and practically raped her? Had Ron not tried to hex his naughty bits off several times? Had Heather not been backing Ron up? Did Dean not remember any of this? Was he insane? Was Snape seething up at the Head Table?

Ginny's attention was temporarily abstracted as Snape made a sudden, sharp movement up at the head table. And as Ginny turned her full glance on him, he did look rather peeved. Which was putting it mildly. Had the man been of any fouler disposition, he would have been smoking at the ears, his white face even redder than it was now.

What was moderately disconcerting was that his fierce glare was fixed on _her_. Ginny bit back the rhetorical question she was going to ask. But really, what was Snape glaring at? As Snape realized Ginny had caught his stare, he quickly turned away to whatever Flitwick was babbling about. Even as Ginny turned back to Dean, she saw the fork Snape was holding bend in his grip.

As she turned around, she felt an unsettling feeling centered at the base of her neck, making the hair there stand on end. She rolled her shoulders and tried to shiver, but it wouldn't come. Instead she was left with that maddening sensation of wanting to shudder, but not being able to.

She turned around completely in her seat, no longer facing the table. _Ready to run_. She thought dryly. As she did, she found a pair of steely blue eyes boring holes in her. Ginny flicked her gaze up at Dean, who was still staring at her expectantly, looking more and more hopeful and confidant with every second of her ostensible inner conflict.

She twisted her look back to Blaise, who was somewhere between glaring at Dean and questioning Ginny. Her wide brown eyes went ever wider in a silent plea. She could feel unwarranted tears prickling in her eyes and the last thing she wanted was for Dean to think he could make her cry like he had some kind of hold over her.

Blaise, fortunately, took the signal. He stood suddenly and strode unhesitant to where Ginny was half-sitting in her seat, looking ready to either cry or bolt. Blaise put a large hand out and Ginny took it unquestionably. He pulled her gently to her feet and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him.

He fixed that terrifyingly threatening glare back to Dean, who seemed to shrink a few inches. "Stay away from her mate. The next time I won't give you warning. And believe me, if you're up against me, you'll want one. So stay away. She's taken." And with that, he led Ginny from the Great Hall.

Once outside, Blaise continued to pull her along. Ginny, too weary to object, allowed him to. He pulled her into the nearest classroom and shut the door behind them. Ginny sat down on a desk, staring hollowly at the floor, all the fear, guilt and shame running through her all over again.

Blaise tentatively rubbed her back comfortingly. Ginny shuddered at first, but forced herself to realize that it was Blaise touching her, not Dean. Not Dean. Not Dean…She could still feel the spot where Dean had touched her, burning away at the flesh of her thigh.

It started at her knees. They started shaking, bouncing up and down uncontrollably. Then her legs. The tremors traveled up, bunching and tightening the muscles in her stomach, making her nausea intensify and overwhelm her. Her shoulders began to quake, shaking forcibly back and forth, and her trembling hands rose to hug herself tightly, as if to steady the violent trembles fighting to take control over her.

Blaise watched on in morbid fascination, completely at loss for what to do. It wasn't like he dealt with schizophrenics and psychotics everyday…you had to give him some credit, though. He did manage to help Ginny to the ground before running away as fast as possible. He had to find Draco…Draco would know what to do with someone in a fit. Of course he would…he was Draco.

Ginny rocked back and forth, volts like electric shock ripping through her, leaving her weak and sick. She gagged violently and rubbed at the burning spot on her leg. Her palms tingled with friction as she frantically scrubbed at the spot, pushing her skirt up hastily. Her pale flesh went first pink, then red as she scoured her leg furiously, jerks still shaking her body frenziedly.

She hardly noticed she was crying until her tears grew so thick and numerous that they linked her eyelashes together with moisture as they pushed forth past others to escape her eyes. She blinked chaotically, wiping her stinging eyes with her smarting hands.

A raw sob escaped her dry lips, which up to now had been firmly closed in a set grimace. She looked down at her leg and wild and inexplicable hatred and nausea welled up in her. She turned to her side, wobbly arms holding her up as she dry-retched beside her. Her stomach was heaving outrageously, yet it stayed in her, burning with feverish intensity; the same kind that bubbled under her skin where Dean had touched her.

She glanced down at her leg and could almost see a distinct impression, as if his leg had seared a mark on her leg with some unknown flaming power. And though she could never quite understand it, not even thinking rationally much later, she despised him more passionately than ever. Him and everything that linked her to him. Her eyes burned into her skin as his touch burned under it. Without warning or reasoning, Ginny started rubbing at her leg again. But this time it was complete animosity that fueled her movements.

The mark was still there; she could see it under the raw skin that seemed to blossom with flame, redness spreading all around it in a wide arc. She scratched at it, her nails sending grazes that stained her flaming red skin white momentarily before going an even darker red than the angry skin underneath it.

She clawed desperately at the mark; it burned even brighter, as if taunting her. Her nails started to scrape deeper, picking up skin under them. Livid crimson streaks lined her leg around the one spot that glowed spitefully up at her, matching her for intensity. The tears that fell hot from her eyes singed her already scorched skin, and it had to be Ginny's frenzied imagination; her tears just couldn't be sending little boiling puffs of steam up from her arid skin. Could they?

In her state, Ginny was in no position to question anything, especially herself. She'd gone past thinking by now, acting purely on emotions. As hate was the most dominant one present in her, it surfaced and reflected and bounced back to direct itself at her. When her skin ripped and tore, blood blossoming up ruby-red and thick, she didn't stop to think about what she was doing to herself. She just kept scuffing away, still shaking with both tears and shudders of revulsion.

She had no way of knowing how long she had sat there; if someone would have asked her right then, she would have just as likely said five seconds as five years. All she knew was hate and pain and despair.

She didn't even hear the door bursting open to let a mortified Blaise and frantic Draco in. She knew nothing of their presence until her hands were pulled away in two steel grips, away from her leg.

Draco felt her trembling in his grip. Her unrestrained arms were twisting and wrenching horribly, fighting to escape his hands. Her tear-stained face was turned far away from him, her body striving valiantly to get as far away as possible with her hands locked in a vise-like hold. Her legs were shaking just as badly, her knees jumping on the floor as she tried to push away from him.

Blaise was having a hard enough time holding her still. For a scrawny little thing, she had more strength than should have been possible. He wrapped his arms around her chest from behind, reaching to pull her arms to her body. She wriggled and writhed under both of them, tears falling ever steadily.

_Getoffgetoffgetoffgetoff…_Ginny's mind screamed hysterically, her brain pounding in her ears as her heart beat to a different, even wilder beat beneath her ribs. Somewhere in her panic, she found her vocal chords. "Get off me! Get off get off get off get off, please get off!" she chanted frantically, her eyes squeezed shut.

Even the protection of her eyelids couldn't keep out the image of Dean, eyes red and wild, standing over her with that horrible, almost tragically possessed look on his face. As he touched her and hit her and…

"GET OFF!" She screamed, bucking uncontrollably and shaking off Blaise's hold. Her elbow smacked him in the jaw as he let her go, and he fell back with a muffled grunt. Ginny's legs were pumping furiously, kicking at Draco's knees as she strained to pull away.

Draco bit his lip and stifled a groan of pain as her foot kicked a rather delicate body part, but he still didn't let her go. Instead, he pulled her close in one swift, powerful movement. Ginny pulled and jerked and beat at Draco's chest with her fists.

Draco took a chance. He let go of her hands just as she moved to hit him again. She fell onto his chest and he took the window of opportunity to wrap his arms firmly around her back, holding her to him tightly.

Ginny's energy seemed to be dying, but she was still fighting to get away, why…Draco really didn't understand. She finally went limp, her forehead falling to land on Draco's shoulder. Her heart was pounding painfully fast, and her head was hurting from either crying or screaming.

Draco felt her laborious breaths on his shoulder and leaned his head over so it rested on top of hers, still holding her tightly. "Shh…." He murmured softly as she took a shuddering breath. "Please…please please…just go…away…please…just go away…please…" she mumbled incoherently in ragged breaths. "Go away Dean…please…just go away…go away…go…away Dean…away…go…away…please…go…go…away…please…please Dean…go please…" she echoed those five words over and over, calming herself with every breath she took in and released.

Draco clutched her closer. _I'm going to murder the bastard…_ he thought violently as Ginny shuddered and shook under his hold. "Please, Dean…just go away." She whispered one last time before closing her eyes gently and falling asleep, exhaustion seeping through every pore and running warm through her veins, lulling her to slumber in dreams filled with terrors and saviors and screams and kisses.

Draco held her tenderly, relinquishing his severe grip on her. Her body went lax in his arms and she curled up against him in sleep. Draco stared at a spot over her shoulder as he rubbed her back softly. Blaise eventually came up next to him, standing tall far above Draco, who was still on the floor, slumped against a wall with Ginny lying across him.

"Erm…Draco? Is she…" he paused hesitantly as Draco turned his head slowly up toward him, anger pushing the thoughtful look from his eyes. "…is she alright?" he finished. Draco's eyes went from soft grey to hard steel in a matter of seconds.

"What do you think, Blaise? Do you see what she's been through?" He gestured to her leg, with its torn and matted-blood spattered raw surface, to her hands, also smeared with her own blood and just as red, to her face, still pink and swollen from harsh tears. Blaise glanced guiltily down at her, biting his lip as he frowned.

"How could you just have left her?" Draco asked quietly, his eyes half-closing questioningly. Blaise stared moodily at the wall behind Draco, purposefully avoiding his eyes. "I don't know." He said just as quietly, the dead silence that punctuated each remark acting as a solemn barrier that prevented them from thinking of anything else. "I didn't know what to do. She was shaking…like she was having a fit or something." He glanced surreptitiously at Draco. "I got scared, alright? I didn't know what to do, and she was looking so ill. I thought you would know what to do, because I sure as hell didn't. Would you rather have let me leave her to that git Thomas?" he went from repentant to angry as he spoke, his eyes flashing as his voice rose.

He knew he shouldn't have left her there alone, but he hadn't exactly had time to analyze the situation, and he knew he needed to do something. Draco had no right to make him feel any guiltier than he already did.

Draco merely regarded Blaise with a tired, disappointed gaze. "Thank you for coming to get me." He finally said, his voice still hushed and non-threatening.

Blaise nodded, his anger dying. Looking at the soft, pained look Draco was fixing on Ginny, he couldn't help it. Draco _did_ have every right to be mad with him. Though Blaise cared for Ginny very much as a friend, Draco loved her more than anything. Blaise tried to imagine what he'd do if it had been Heather and Draco instead of him and Ginny. He glanced once at Ginny's leg and shivered. He would be just as angry as Draco, he realized.

"Draco mate, I…" Draco shook his head, though remembering to add a comforting nod. "Don't worry. Let's just get her somewhere safe." He said , his voice lacking the harsh severity it had held minutes before faced with the harm of the one thing, the one person he'd come to care for more than himself. And he was a bloody well narcissistic prick, so that was saying a lot.

Draco stood, scooping Ginny up in his arms easily and cradling her to his chest gently. She shivered and looked ready to go into another panic attack (and for two older, stronger men, they most certainly weren't ready to take her on again) when the door to the classroom burst open.

Blaise arched an eyebrow as Heather flew into the room, not stopping to gasp or cry out in shock of seeing her best and dearest friend unconscious, shaking and bleeding in Draco's arms. She strode forward, blue Chinese silk robes billowing behind her as everyone got a good look of her nightclothes- she most obviously had rushed down here- her clothes were a rumpled mess and her hair wasn't even brushed. She went right up to Ginny and placed a cool hand to the older girl's forehead.

Immediately Ginny calmed and the deep lines etched in her brow smoothed out somewhat. She soothed enough that Draco could hold her without fear of being emasculated. Heather leaned into Ginny's ear and whispered comforting nonsense as she pulled a bottle from her robes pocket. Tilting Ginny's head back she let the yellowish gold potion spill down the girl's throat.

Draco felt tension he hadn't even noticed disappear as Ginny's entire body went limp. He turned questioning eyes to Heather. What was the potion? How had she known that Ginny was in trouble? How did she even know where to find them? How had she known to come? The questions whizzed through his head and into Heathers.

The younger girl sighed and tucked a strand of red hair behind Ginny's ear, a horribly pained look on her face as she gestured towards the door, her eyes suggesting Madame Pomfrey and a quick lie to get Ginny some rest.

Blaise turned his dark eyes to her matching ones, the same questions and more in their dark depths. Heather sighed heavily, staring after Draco as he took Ginny in his arms to the hospital wing. "Later." She said tiredly, and swept out of the room.


	27. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Author's Note:**

**Please Read: **

**

* * *

**

**_Dear Uninterested Folk,_**

_Uh…hi. Am here, writing on v. lovely Sunday morning, to apologize profusely for all out there reading story who most likely don't give a shit. Oops…bad potty-mouth. Okay, but really…am having lack of creativity and masses of self-degenerating thoughts and absolutely no confidence or self-worth. As such, am having v.v.v. hard time writing. Have written some of the next chapter, in nonexistent spare time, and hope will have new chapter out within a couple of weeks, if not sooner. Is end of year, and am having v. nasty, icky, slimy things called 'finals'. So, story should be coming along soon, definitely during summer. On lighter note, am writing TWO other stories, and have at least sixty pages on each. Will not upload until are finished, as is v. annoying to have to wait for stupid authors (self included…no, mostly just self) to write chapters. Look out for new stories over summer. Am finished writing, will post half chapter if current chapter is not finished in two weeks. Adieu, fair people who are not giving shit…damn, have fucking dirty mouth. Stupid bloody…_

**_Am much in appreciation,_**

**_Fields._**

* * *


	28. A LongAwaited Story

**Author's Note:** Hello all. I have an important announcement to make: **I SUCK.** Really. I've spent all this time not writing this story and now that I finally have time to actually complete it, I've come to realize that somewhere during the not-writing process, I grew up. I re-read this story and it is horrible. I hate it. So I have good and bad news. Bad news: I hate this story and will finish it as soon as possible (maybe that's good news) and the really good news is that I'm 120 pages into the best story I've written for FanFiction. Expect the first chapter once I've finished Dancing Life. Ick. So, here's to the worst story ever written. Cheers!

**Disclaimer:** Not mine unless it sucks. So basically, I own the one-dimensional characters, the crappy plot, and the sorry dialogue. No much to claim, really.

* * *

**Dancing Life **

**Chapter 28: A Long-Awaited Story

* * *

**

Ginny was stirring from a restless sleep. It was all she knew. She knew not where she was or how she had come to be in this vaguely lumpy and uncomfortable place…or why she was asleep for that matter…

Pieces of a conversation either being carried on right now, or traces of one long ended hit her ears. A soft, silky voice drifted into her hearing.

"…what comes…associating…egging on…old crushes…"

Ginny heard a distinct grinding sound, as if a chair had just been pushed back.

"Don't…_ever_…that about her…she's not like..."

Ginny felt a catch rise in her as she recognized Draco's voice. The events of the past week unfolded before her, and she felt tears of joy and disbelief rising in her eyes. She was going to marry Draco Malfoy.

"…seems…at least someone's dedicated in…ridiculous relationship…"

A loud thump echoed, barely penetrating the sheer mirth enveloping her and squeezing at her heart and head, as if to wake them up to the fact that Draco had asked her to marry him. The full weight of the question, her answer, and the implications hit her. Tears of fright and joy mingled together and pushed between her eyelashes.

"Mr. Malfoy! Control yourself!"

"Well, I wouldn't have to if you didn't sit there insulting her! She's twenty times better than you could ever hope to be, Gryffindor or not. She's-"

Whatever Ginny was, she didn't find out. She was crying and laughing out loud now, shaking with almost delirious, hysterical tears. She was going to marry Draco Malfoy…she was only sixteen…almost seventeen…she was going to be married…

"Ginny!" she felt someone practically lift her off the bed she was sitting on. Being squashed to near paste in Draco's strong, bone-crushing embrace, she realized she was in the hospital wing…but why? She glanced over Draco's shoulder, blinking tears from her eyes to see Snape get up from his place on the floor, rubbing his rear painfully. Draco had hit a teacher?

"Draco?" she was shocked at the hollowness of her voice. After the initial euphoria of her remembrances, a heavy, smothering weight fell over her chest. Draco pulled back, looking at her with eyes unnaturally bright. Her eyelids felt heavy, as if she couldn't open them properly.

Fear flashed blatantly through Draco's eyes. He suddenly pulled her to him, wrapping arms around her back and hugging her fiercely against his body as he spoke, his voice shaking noticeably.

"No…don't do this. Please Gin. Don't do this. Don't leave. I need you. Heather needs you. Blaise needs you. Even that stupid prat of a brother needs you." She could hear the bloody smirk as he spoke. Somehow, even though it was exactly the sort of dry humour she needed to lift her spirits, she couldn't make her lips curve into a smile. They got halfway there and wobbled, falling back into a slight grimace.

Draco continued to whisper shakily into her ear until the hospital door creaked open. "Ginny!" Ginny winced as Draco pulled back just in time for a short dark thing to tackle her nearly to the ground. She looked down. "Heather?" she asked, uncertainly. The small dark witch looked up, tears forming in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry Ginny." She whispered fearfully, tears falling down her round cheeks. "I'm so, so, horribly sorry. It didn't work. I didn't get there in time…" she trailed off nonsensically, not realizing she wasn't making much sense to Draco, Snape, and Blaise, who had entered somewhat less dramatically after her.

Ginny tried to smile weakly, but only got in a little half-quirked grin. "S'okay Hattie. Wasn't your fault. Nothing happened this time; he just talked to me." Even as she tried to inject a professed carelessness into her tone, she couldn't suppress a shudder.

Heather felt it; the cold, violent waves of pain she'd only half experienced washing through her best friend's body, tearing away at the thing that made her Ginny. Fresh tears sprang forth from a pool long-covered and well-capped. "Oh gods!" she sobbed, her own chest racking against Ginny's as she clutched her to her body, trying to dispel the thought that something like this could tear Ginny away from her.

"Ohgodsohgodsohgods…" Heather mumbled, pain spitting through her as she thought of everything Ginny had been through and everything that could have been avoided had she just paid better attention to the older witch.

Ginny felt her own tears rising as she hugged Heather determinedly. In that moment, they swapped pain and feeling and the emotions their frail bodies had separated from each other. Heather gasped as she realized how horribly all this was hurting Ginny and Ginny sighed somewhat incredulously.

"Hattie…" she said softly, comfortingly. "…there was nothing you could have done. Nothing actually happened, really. Dean just sat down to talk to me and I overreacted, that's all." The certainty and self-disgust in her voice did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room except for Snape, who was a bit at a loss.

Blaise made a rough, angry motion, but Draco stopped him with a slicing movement he made with his hand, telling him to drop it. Heather let loose tears slip between her scrunched eyes. "No. No, NO!" she said, suddenly shouting. She pulled back holding Ginny at arm's length.

"It's not your fault! You did nothing wrong…you…" she let Ginny pull her back into a one-armed hug. "Heather, stop. I know what happened, and honestly, I acted like a little girl throwing a fit." She stepped away from the group somewhat tersely, grabbing her regular clothes from the edge of the bed, muttering something about getting changed and going to class.

Heather watched her go, one hand covering her mouth as her shoulders trembled and tears slid over her hand and face. Without warning she turned to Draco and started sobbing, nearly collapsing to the floor.

"Oh gods, I'm so…so…so sorry." She said shakily, sadness echoing through her. "I- I…" she screwed her eyes up suddenly, bringing herself to her knees so abruptly that Draco and Blaise distinctly heard the crack of her bones jarring against the hard floor. "I FUCKED UP, OKAY? I BLOODY FUCKING FUCKED UP!" she shrieked, putting her hands up on either side of her head and rocking back and forth.

Blaise was at her side in an instant, drawing her into his arms with a shocked expression on his face. Heather almost never swore. Not like that…

To the great shock of everyone present, including himself, Professor Snape glided over to where Heather was rocking uncontrollably, tears slipping down her cheeks. Squatting next to her, he reached out and put two fingers to her forehead. After a few frozen seconds, Heather's brow cleared and her eyes slowly opened, echoing calm as she stared dazedly at Snape.

"Don't blame yourself for the problems of others. Inevitability is a factor you must remember, instead of condemning yourself for things you cannot control."

With that, Snape left, feeling self-disgustingly good about himself for…helping a student. He decided he was feeling a bit under the weather and resolved to brew a potion to fix it.

Back in the infirmary, Heather was still sitting back on her knees, staring blankly at her hands in her lap. Bloody hell…he was right. Blaise and Draco exchanged slightly concerned glances. "Heather, come here." Blaise commanded gently. Heather obeyed, standing and placing herself inside the loop of Blaise's arms. He held her tenderly as if she would break and Draco tactfully bowed out, as much to give them privacy as to go find Ginny.

Ginny stared lifelessly out over the lake. Shame was washing over her like the rippling waters of the lake and Ginny felt like drowning in it. She had never felt so childish in her entire life. Flipping out just because Dean sat down next to her? It was ridiculous. She just wasn't used to dealing with it without Heather.

Heather…Ginny closed her eyes and willed the peace her best friend brought to come, but it never did. It wasn't the same without Heather. She was the only thing that kept Ginny sane in the months after the incident. Shivering slightly, Ginny watched the sun sink. That wasn't right…the sun shouldn't be sinking for several more hours.

A glance at her watch told her she'd estimated the time spent contemplating wrong. It was late afternoon, and she'd missed her classes. Sighing, she couldn't bring herself to care. In retrospect, she realized she should care, but at the moment it didn't really matter.

Hugging her knees to her chest, she stared out over the lake and cried. It was nothing; she was just stressed and doing it to get it out of her system. It had nothing to do with Dean, because Dean meant nothing to her; he wasn't a part of her life anymore. Draco was…with a jolt she realized just how much she wanted Draco there with her.

As if answering her prayers, she heard footsteps behind her.

Someone sat down next to her. Ginny didn't even have the energy to turn her head and see who it was; she already had a pretty good idea as to who it was. She sat, side by side with her nameless supporter for several moments in silence.

"You want to talk about it?" Ginny felt something in her chest fall away, leaving her with an almost empty, serene feeling of relief. "I'm so sorry Draco." She whispered, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her toward a warm and comforting body. She allowed herself to be pulled.

"You're a daft little twit, you know that?" The affection in his voice was so strong that Ginny cracked a grin. "I know that." She said wearily, leaning against his comforting body. "You can't beat yourself up over these things." He said listlessly, knowing she would anyways.

Ginny shivered. "What am I supposed to do? Blame Dean? For all I know he's mentally unstable. It was my fault…" Draco opened his mouth to object, but Ginny cut him off "…but I've decided to let it go. It doesn't matter anymore. Dean's a relic of the past." She turned to face him, her eyes somehow darker and older.

"It's about time I started living the present…" she held a hand up to his face "…and planning the future." She said softly, leaning in to kiss him. Draco sighed and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

He kissed her gently, caressing her mouth with his as though it were made of glass. Holding her here, like this was exquisite. For one horrifying moment, he thought he'd lost her. When she'd looked up at him in the hospital wing, it wasn't her. Her beautiful brown eyes, so warm and deep, had been empty. Hollow. As though Ginny was gone; the beautiful creature that he loved so much inside that frail body. He hadn't been able to find her. And the thought frightened him more than he'd ever admit to.

Blaise stared intently at Heather.

Heather stared intently at the floor.

"Heather…" Blaise called impatiently. Heather snuck a seemingly covert glance from under her lashes at him. "I think you've got some explaining to do." Heather's eyes narrowed, before closing, her shoulders slumping forward.

"Knew you couldn't just let it be." She mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. Blaise waited expectantly. She sat for only a few seconds under his intent gaze before growling under her breath. "Fine." She turned in her seat to face him; they were sitting in the library.

"I'll just jump straight to the point; you didn't know Ginny after the incident with Dean. Actually, you didn't know her before the incident either. But after the little bastard pulled his little scheme on her, she was a wreck. She wouldn't talk to anyone but me and Ron for weeks. She wouldn't eat or sleep or come out of Gryffindor tower." Heather sighed, rubbing her forehead with her fingers.

"Every time Dean came up to her- and believe me, he tried to get back with her many times in the weeks after his little stunt- she would flip out; it was like she went insane again every new time. It hurt her; you know how vulnerable she is." Heather snorted, nostrils flaring.

"Finally, I catch the little prick trying to get into her room one night. After politely rearranging his face, I came to a decision." Blaise leaned in, listening intently as Heather examined her nails. "Ginny came to be my best friend during that time." Heather's eyes flashed angrily as she whipped her head around, hair flying over those crackling eyes. "And I would _not_ let some crackpot like Thomas try and ruin her. She was perfect; she was like a role model for me. I wanted to be like her so much." She laughed at herself. "But in the end, it was Ginny who taught me to be my own individual person. She's brought me farther that any other person I know here. And I was a year younger than her!"

She shook her head. "I had to do something to do about Dean, though. Given the chance, he could tear her apart. I couldn't always be there to protect her and where Dean was concerned, she was defenseless; she froze when he came near her. Yes, we had to do _something._" She turned her palm face-up in her lap, staring at a shiny pinkish-reddish scar that sliced across the fleshy part right down the center. "So we resorted to magic." She said softly, tracing the scar.

Blaise found his gaze drawn to the scar. It looked rather ordinary, except for the silvery strands of…something…that had bound the cut up at one point. They shone faintly with the movement of Heather's hand as the light bounced off them.

Blaise recognized them from an illustration in one of their Potions texts. It was an ordinary wound…with a magical undercurrent. Blaise looked up at Heather. "A Binding Brew?" he asked, his voice stunned and breathless.

Heather gave one short nod as she traced the puffy scar with a finger. "Obviously Ginny had to help me prepare it; we don't even cover them until seventh year and Ginny had to swipe Harry's invisibility cloak to get a book from the restricted area. We took it and poured it into our cuts…Ginny's got one on each hand because the first attempt failed." She turned to him.

"You do know what a Binding Brew does?" she asked. Blaise nodded. "Yeah; it links the two people who share the potion and the blood." He shrugged. Heather shook her head. "Not just that; we share a pathway…a magical conduit that calls our blood and magic together." She sounded extremely serious; Blaise was hanging onto every word she said.

"Most of the time we keep the connection closed; I wouldn't want to know every feeling she feels in addition to mine, would I? Nor would she. But it's always there; a little niggling feeling here…" she placed her hand over her navel. "I can feel her every time she hurts. It's like this sick sensation that starts here…" she poked a finger at her navel "and goes all the way back."

Blaise watched her eyes cloud over. "You don't know how many times I feel sick like that." She said softly.


	29. I Could Have Danced All Night

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** So here it is, finalmente...the last chapter to Dancing Life. I was contemplating doing this whole plot twist, nearly everyone dies, mayhem and sadness type-ending, but couldn't bring myself to do it. So here we are. I'm not sure if I'll do an Epilogue or not...what do you think? Enjoy!

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling. The chapter title is from the movie My Fair Lady, and the 'red, red, red!' part is an adaptation of one of the lines from the same movie...you can tell I like My Fair Lady, can't you?.

* * *

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 29: I Could Have Danced All Night

* * *

**

The dance came much sooner than anyone expected. Time, being the naughty little bugger it is, loosed itself from its regular bonds and cavorted around Hogwarts in a most offensive (to teachers) and welcome (to students) …cavorting manner.

"Damn cavorting time!" Ginny yelled out quite randomly the afternoon of the dance.

Several people eyed her suspiciously and many more made circling motions with their fingers near their ears. Ginny's cheeks dusted pink. "And I am not insane!" she shouted, more or less to the vast majority of the people in the library.

Many shrugged, disbelievingly, and went about their business, not too worried that one of their number had gone inexplicably insane. Ginny fumed silently until a silky voice sounded at her ear. "I for one, have to agree with the masses on this one; you, Ginevra Weasley, are certifiable." Ginny turned in her seat to grin at Draco as he leaned over her shoulder. He gave her a mischievous look. "I just find that whole 'lost my marbles' bit very sexy."

He was beginning to wonder why he was on the ground when he realized that his chest was aching from where she'd shoved him. He stared up at her, as she examined her fingernails, a quiet smirk playing around the lines of her lips. "When did you get so fast?" he asked, half in awe, half in amusement.

Ginny shrugged carelessly. "Since I acquired Draco Malfoy, speed-demon ferret as my boyfriend." The maniacal laughter trademark to the Weasleys indicated that someone of the aforementioned red-headed clan found this last statement highly amusing.

Ginny rolled her eyes, not bothering to turn around. "Bugger off, Ron. Draco and I have a dance to get ready for." She heard more snickering behind her. "I can see that. If you can't even manage to keep Malfoy on his feet through the dance, you're going to need a lot more help then just a few hours' practicing time.

Draco glared up at Ron half-heartedly from the floor. "I hate you." He pouted, before crawling under the table and wrapping himself childishly around Ginny's legs. Ginny laughed merrily and even Ron couldn't suppress a grin. Harry and Hermione appeared from behind a bookcase, Harry's arm slung around the waist of a pretty Ravenclaw girl.

Blaise glanced away from Heather, one table away, to take in the scene before them. It was one of the most heart-lifting and warming pictures he'd ever seen. For a moment, everyone had forgotten about the war…their differences…they were like kids again, and along with a great sense of fun there was a beautiful lack of discrimination.

He smiled as Draco snuck a hand up Ginny's leg, causing her to gasp and smack him with a book. "Draco! Stop messing about; we've got a dance to get ready for, remember?" she giggled as Draco tickled the inside of her knee.

Draco huffed and put on an affronted facial expression. "You just don't appreciate me, do you? No, not even that; you don't love me at all!" he shut his eyes against her protestations. He opened them again when he realized there _were_ no protestations.

Ginny was smirking a somewhat familiar smirk at him, not denying his claim at all. In fact…

"You're right; I don't love you. In fact, Snape and I are having a torrid affair behind your back. We laugh and mock you in bed."

Had Colin Creevey been there, he would have drooled over the opportunity to catch the infamous Slytherin Prince Sex God with an expression of utter horror, disbelief, and nausea on his face, such as Draco was wearing now.

Ginny couldn't hold for long. She burst out into laughter, ducking under the table and nearly hitting heads with Draco. His eyes narrowed as she cracked up in front of him. "You…rotten little hussy." He glowered. Ginny sat back up, her eyes laughing mockingly at him. He pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.

At that moment, a silver-headed someone rushed past the library doors. Backing up, a silver head poked into the library. "Aha!" Skye shouted, earning her a reproving glare from Madame Pince. Ginny's head popped up as Skye rushed into the room, finger pointing at them.

"YOU! I have been looking for you for ages! What are you doing here, you're supposed to be getting ready!" she asked Ginny, including Blaise and Heather (who had wandered over) in her rant. "Why aren't you getting ready and where is your partner?" she asked worriedly. Ginny shot Draco (still curled around her ankles) a withering glower and stood, dragging Draco out from the table.

"My partner is the reason we aren't getting ready." Ginny explained. Skye rolled her eyes and smirked. "I won't ask. Suffice to say, though, if you two aren't ready within the next hour and a half, there will be hell to pay." She stormed off in a very teacher-like dramatic fashion, ignoring Draco's comment of "what's the price?". She had things to frenzy over and people to hasten.

Heather gasped, sucking in a breath. "Too tight…too tight…" she breathed as Ginny worked furiously to undo the strings on the shirt Heather was wearing. Heather let out a huge sigh as the corset-like shirt loosened. "Much better." She breathed as Ginny tied it up again.

She admired herself in the mirror they'd enlarged in the girl's bathroom, the one closest to the Great Hall, which had been cleared for the performance tonight.

Heather had had a blast designing the clothes; mostly because she could really go all out with them. For her and Blaise, they'd decided on black and warm colors, predominantly red, to match the tango-esque beat to their dance.

Heather's fingers traced over the thin, soft material of her red and orange skirt, cut at the knees so she wouldn't trip when dancing. She was wearing a billowing red button-down under the black tank top Ginny was currently struggling with. It was only an hour or so until the dance and they still hadn't done anything with her hair or her make-up.

Ginny patted Heather on the back, her laces done up and ready to go. "Excellent. All done here." She said, running around the bathroom in her knickers and a loose white gypsy shirt. Heather watched her friend rush about with amusement while pulling on her black slippers. "Urgh!" Ginny groaned, sifting through a pile of clothes. "Where the ruddy hell is my dress?" she groaned again.

Heather glanced over at a green piece of clothing hanging precariously on the stall to a bathroom. "Gin?" she asked, pointing to the cloth. Ginny hurriedly snatched it up and pulled it on over her head. "Hattie! Help!" Ginny cried as her arms got stuck in the dress. Heather rolled her eyes and went over to help Ginny get untangled from her dress.

The door to the girl's bathroom creaked open slightly.

Heather couldn't suppress the grin forming on her lips. She threw her gaze over to the door. "Blaise, for the tenth time, go away! We're still not dressed and boyfriends or not, you and Draco aren't allowed to see us prancing around in our knickers.

The door closed again, accompanied by Ginny's "prance for yourself…_I_ don't prance around in my knickers…". Heather shook her head. "Boys. Horny, hormonal, perverted bunch, the lot of them…" she muttered as she tugged the green fabric down over Ginny's head. She stepped back to admire her own handiwork.

The bodice of the dress had thin straps and was tight across Ginny's rather flat chest. The skirt started low at her hips and swirled around her calves. The almost-olive, somewhat emerald dress was made of a light material whose color and fabric complimented Ginny's red hair and pale frame.

Heather gave Ginny a thumb's up before seating herself down at the make-shift 'vanity' they'd set up in front of the mirror. They pretty much had the whole bathroom to themselves; all the other girls had obsessed and fretted over their own appearance ages ago. Heather sifted through the cosmetics they'd managed to bum off Lavender and Padma. Nicked, really… "Lipstick?" she shouted to Ginny, who was pinning her short hair up in different, random places, so that it stuck up and out, giving her head soft spikes. "Red." Ginny hollered back. "Shadow?" Heather called, sorting through many tins of powder. "Red!" Ginny yelled back, poking herself in the head with a hair pin. "Paint?" Heather nearly knocked over a bunch of glass bottles of many colors. Ginny rolled her eyes. "Red, red, red!" she screamed, pushing silver teardrops through her earring holes.

Heather mocked her behind her back as she hastily applied some makeup. Ginny waved her wand and readjusted a loose strap on her dress. "Lipstick?" Heather called again, her own face already made-up. "None." Ginny called back. Heather rolled her eyes and set aside some lip gloss. "Shadow?" "None, I don't have time for all that!" Ginny exclaimed as she pinned her hair up in several more places, adding a few emerald and silver clips before casting a spell on it to keep it intact.

Heather was about to make some sort of comment when the door creaked open slightly. She rolled her eyes. "That's it." She muttered, pointing her wand at the door and murmuring something under her breath. Seconds later, the door flew open and two well-dressed young men fell sheepishly into the room. Ginny laughed. "Blaise, get your smarmy body off my boyfriend!" she shouted playfully, as Blaise reached up and started threading hands through Draco's hair.

Bad idea.

Draco shoved him off him, looking violently ill. "You're sick, Zabini!" he scowled as Blaise broke up into laughter, much of which Ginny was echoing. Draco turned his glare up to his lovely red-haired counterpart. "Oh, and what exactly, is so bloody hilarious? Eh? You find it amusing that your lover is being fondled by another man?"

If his intentions were to stop Ginny from laughing, they were sorely misused. Ginny fell against Heather, cackling hysterically. Draco just rolled his eyes, getting to his feet. He offered a hand to Blaise, who ignored it, his eyes riveted to Heather.

"You…" he started, his voice a tad bit high. He cleared his throat. "You look…" he paused, this time lost for words. Draco rolled his eyes. "You look terrific, Heather." He supplied for him

Blaise sent Draco the famous trademark 'death glare', standing up and striding over to Heather to smother her in a surprisingly passionate kiss. Ginny (who was still leaning on Heather) moaned and ran over to Draco, her hands over her eyes. "I'm scarred…that's it, I'm scarred for life. That image is going to be imprinted on the undersides of my eyelids for all eternity. I'm dooooooomed!" she cried, burying her head in Draco's chest.

Draco grinned and lifted Ginny's face to his, covering her mouth with his. All thoughts of Blaise and Heather kissing rapidly left her mind as Draco moved his lips lightly over hers. Ginny sighed contentedly, reaching up and wrapping her arms around Draco's neck, pressing herself closer to him.

He moaned and moved a hand instinctively to run through her hair. The pins and charm on her hair made it more than a bit impossible. He broke away from her lips, pulling his hands down and looking somewhat sheepish. For a Malfoy. "Sorry…" he said rather lamely. "…didn't mean to jump on you there…"

Ginny smirked…his smirk… "Was I complaining?" she asked mischievously. A groaned 'eew' from behind them made them laugh and turn to see Heather making stomach-emptying motions. She stopped, noticing she had the attention of everyone in the room. Moaning Myrtle watched with interest from her stall.

Heather turned on Blaise and Draco, poking them both in the chest with her forefinger. "And you two! We have still not finished dressing; not even in the two minutes you allotted us since your last visit, so bugger off!"

With that (and a little help from Ginny), Blaise and Draco were physically removed from the girl's bathroom. Blaise turned a questioning glace up to Draco. "Did we…?" he said, pointing to the door. Draco caught his meaning. "Two minutes ago?" he asked. Blaise nodded. "No." Blaise arched an eyebrow at Draco's statement before following him back to their 'dressing room'.

A dark pair of eyes watched them from the shadows.

Skye screamed, her head landing in her hands.

Janet watched on, her pale arms crossed over her chest, eyes dancing with amusement. Skye started banging her head on the desk she was seated at. Janet cocked an eyebrow and examined her fingernails, painted a deep blue.

"Honestly, Skye…" Janet said softly as Skye groaned loudly "…it's only a dance." She said, trying to keep a straight face. Skye's bulging eyes made it difficult. "Only a dance? ONLY A DANCE?" She bellowed. "I have put hours and hours into getting these kids motivated and prepared…they've spent hours and hours pretending to work on this thing…if I mess up, I'm letting everyone down!" With a dramatic twirl, she stood from her chair and plopped down into the one Janet was seated in. "The world is ending." She whimpered.

Bringing her arms up around Skye, Janet bit her lip to keep from laughing. Skye was so easy to get wound up sometimes. Janet must have been shaking with contained laughter because after a few moments, Skye turned an accusatory face up to Janet's own suspiciously blank one. "You evil little mutant buggerslut!" She shouted, though even she was unable to stop the grin from sliding to her lips. Janet shrugged. "You were begging for it; I know this dance is a big thing, but you really can't work yourself up like this."

Skye sighed, turning around so her back was up against Janet's front, whose arms were wrapped around her. Janet moved her hands up to Skye's shoulders and began massaging them in soothing little ministrations.

Ginny groaned in frustration. Heather tried to look up from the corner of her eye; but being unable to move her head made that more or less impossible. "What?" she asked, glancing up as far as possible. Behind her; her hands full with Heather's long thick hair, Ginny groaned again, letting it all fall back down her back.

"Damn. I forgot your hairpiece." She smacked herself on the forehead, instantly regretting it as she slammed the ornament from her headdress into her palm and forehead. "Stay here." She ordered, rubbing her head. Heather was about to object, but rationalized with the fact that she still had half her hair to hold up.

Ginny pulled the hairpins from her mouth and hurriedly exited the room, heading up to Gryffindor tower. _Stupid stupid stupid. _ She thought to herself as she ascended the stairs two at a time. She raced down the hallways and up more stairs until she was out of breath and standing in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. Her hands were on her knees as she panted out the password ("Rumbus Nocturn") to the Fat Lady.

She raced up the spiraled stairs to Heather's dorm room. She hit herself on the forehead again as she saw Heather's red and gold headdress lying inconspicuously on the girl's bedspread. Grumbling to herself, she snatched up the headdress and ran with it back the way she came. Luckily, she thought, if she ran fast she could make it back with some time to spare.

Unluckily, someone was determined to make sure she wouldn't make it.

…

Draco had had enough.

"Blaise…you admire your arse in the mirror one more time and I'm telling Heather she has some serious competition." He growled as Blaise whirled around from where he'd been dancing in front of the mirror. "I wasn't-" he cut off lamely. Draco rolled his eyes. "And you managed not to appear gay for seven years how?" he asked dryly.

Blaise turned and gave him a sly wink.

"Sex appeal, Malfoy…sex appeal."

…

Ginny raced down the steps, feet barely touching the edge of them. All that was on her mind was getting to Heather and getting her ready before Skye came looking for them with murder on her mind.

So naturally, she didn't notice the dark shadow that waited ahead at the next corner, blended in well with other shadows. Ginny was already halfway by when an arm snaked out and a hand grabbed her around her wrist. She dropped the headdress in surprise and fell into the stranger's arms.

She looked up…into a pair of eyes glassed over with intoxication. Eyes that had laughed with her, lusted for her, and leered at her all in turn. Eyes that used to haunt her. Dean's eyes. Ice cold terror slipped over her, starting at her head and working its way down her body 'til she was rigid with it, frozen in place.

Dean was swaying uneasily on his feet and Ginny could still smell the alcohol on him. It was like that night all over again. She saw barely contained violence written all over him, starting with the bruising grasp he had on her arm. She started to shake and cower when a voice sounded in her head.

It was a calming, comforting, encouraging voice…the voice of reason…oddly enough it was Draco's voice. As she listened to it, something strange happened. Why should she be frightened, after all? What claim to her feelings did Dean have anymore? Draco was the one she cared for now. Draco was the one who influenced her feelings. Sure, Dean was frightening when he got like this…but wasn't she more than a match for him? Once she stopped cowering like some Hufflepuff, that is.

Even as Dean began to slide hands down her back, she stilled, thinking to herself that Draco was more inside her head than she thought she'd ever like him…strangely though, it was comforting rather than mind-bogglingly disturbing.

And then Ginny did something she thought she'd never do this close to Dean again…she laughed. Apparently Dean took this as encouragement and slipped hands down to her arse. He was on his back in seconds, the imprints of her knuckles beginning to redden on his cheek. Ginny was standing over him, shaking her head and laughing to herself. "Gods, I am such an idiot…" she thought, slightly amused at her own stupidity.

Dean got to his feet, rubbing his jaw. "Bloody hell!" he growled, glaring at her now. She stood before him unfazed...after all, she was no longer a scared shit-less fourth year and she had apparently just gotten over her case of Deanaphobia…there was the added bonus that he was smashed off his rocker…

"Listen, Dean. I'm going to say this once more, simply for the fact that we used to be friends and I would hate to have to pound a friend's head into the ground for being such a berk." She said, slowly and calmly, pulling her wand from her robes and twirling it around her fingers idly.

He said nothing, just continued to glare at her and watch her wand warily with drunken eyes. She took this as indication to go ahead. "I am not yours. There may have been a time where it was considered, but that time was long past and short-lived. I am with someone else right now, and you're just going to have to accept that and go seek love and life with someone else. You don't concern me anymore…and I'd like it if you get over this possessive kick that makes you think I'm going to come and fling myself sobbingly into your arms. Because I'm not. I'm sorry if you can't understand that." She shrugged her shoulders, feeling rather accomplished at having given her little speech without swearing, insulting him, bringing up Draco's name, or hexing him into oblivion.

Dean was, evidently, somewhat less impressed. Ginny jumped at the loud "_Incendio!_" from behind her and even more so at the white-hot flash of heat that grazed her leg. She looked down to see the hem of her dress had caught on fire. She hissed a quick spell to put it out and then glared up at Dean.

"What the ruddy buggering shite was that for?" she hissed, sounding very Draco. Dean leered at her, swaying slightly. "You're mine." He finally managed, as if trying to remember his reasoning. Ginny rolled her eyes, anger beginning to trickle through her veins.

"I do not belong to anyone, least of all you." She spat harshly. "_Leave me alone_." She said, her voice wearing dangerously low. She turned once more to leave, praying she would be able to do so without further ado.

It would seem that whatever gods she was praying to were either offended by her or were out of town. "_Impedimenta!"_ Ginny threw herself to the ground just as a flash soared over her head. Anger was now bubbling under her skin as she stood again, eyes narrowed at the figure before her.

"Give it up, Ginny. We both know you're not happy with _him_. He's a Slytherin, for chrissakes, and a Malfoy. Come back to me…I'll forgive you…take you back." Ginny glared fiercely. "Wait, wait, wait…_you'll_ take _me _back?" a hint of sarcasm traced her words as they flew from her mouth.

"YOU'RE NOT IN THE POSITION TO BE FORGIVING…YOU SHOULD BE THE ONE GROVELLING AND BEGGING FOR MY FORGIVENESS!" she screamed. Taking in a deep breath, she continued in slightly less raised tones. "But I won't give it. Because I'm happy with Draco. And that's all there is to it. And I suggest, that this time you don't try to curse me." She warned as she turned around again.

She made it about ten feet when Dean's voice rang out again. This time she was ready…anticipating it. As his curse flew over her shoulder, she whipped her wand out and cried out, "_Densaugeo!_". It hit Dean square in the face.

Ginny watched as Dean's front teeth grew longer and longer, growing down past his chin. Ginny watched in a kind of morbid fascination. She shook herself, feeling slightly guilty. She walked over to Dean and wrenched his wand out of his hand, flinging it over her shoulder. She raised her hand and slapped him once across the cheek.

"That's quite enough from you." She spat, palm stinging. "Now I want you to leave me alone…because if I ever see you near me…looking at me in any way I don't care for…if you ever touch me…I will make you wish you had never laid eyes on me." She said harshly.

Dean's eyes were wide over the hands trying to conceal his beaver-like teeth. For once, the roles were turned and it was he who was afraid of her. As he should be…Ginny Weasley was not one to screw with.

As Ginny walked away from the astounded Dean, she felt as though a lifelong bond had been lifted. She felt free and liberated and felt like running all over the place and jumping and dancing…

Her eyes widened comically. "Oh, shit!" she screamed suddenly, setting off at such a fast pace that she didn't hear Snape scream from behind her, "Language, Miss Weasley!" Ginny was mentally berating herself for taking her sweet time…the dance!

She was incredibly late now…glancing at her watch, she realized that if everything had gone accordingly, that she and Draco were supposed to be dancing right now! Speeding up, Ginny was grateful for the light feeling that had come with finally breaking her fear of Dean…she was speeding out-of-control now, dashing down hallway after hallway that passed in a blur.

…

Draco was panicking now.

Ginny was nowhere to be found. Skye had come into the boys' dressing room, telling Draco to go get Ginny; they were going on in a few minutes. Problem was, when he entered the girls' dressing room, Heather was sitting there, holding her hair up halfheartedly. She had turned to Draco, asking where Ginny was.

That was when he started to get nervous. Skye had come in, looking for the next performing couple. She seemed perturbed that Ginny was missing, but her first priority was the dance. She called Blaise and Heather out onto the stage in Draco and Ginny's place with a simple explanation to the awaiting audience.

That had been five minutes ago. And now Draco was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Skye told him to stay put and wait for his red-headed partner and under no circumstances was he to leave to go look for her.

Draco was seriously contemplating just walking out the door when something slammed into the door with a thump from the other side. He heard a muffled groan and then the door flew open and Ginny fell into the room, grumbling to herself. "Brilliant, Weasley. Turn knob first, then push on door." She murmured to herself cynically.

Draco rushed over to her with the speed of light. "Where have you been? What took you so long? Where did you run off to? Why is your skirt burned? Why-" Ginny pressed her lips to Draco's, whether in an attempt to shut him up or to express her barely controlled glee, even she wasn't sure.

Draco stumbled backwards, wrapping his arms around her. Ginny kissed him soundly, grinning inanely. She pulled away, beaming up at him. "I did it!" she smiled. "I stood up to Dean! I'm not afraid of him anymore!" the changes of expression Draco had gone through was astounding, and now he was stuck on a ridiculously goofy grin. He picked her up and hugged her tightly.

Ginny would have been content on staying there, comfortable in his arms, were it not for the fact that two rather breathless-looking people burst into the room at that moment, a blast of applause and chatter coming in with them. "Ginny!" Heather breathed a sigh of relief. Blaise was staring at the two of them anxiously however. "What're you two still doing here? You're up!"


	30. Let's Dance

**_READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ READ _  
**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Right. So I have a slight confession to make. When I went to check the reviews for the last chapter I put up, I was sorely disappointed. I, personally, rather liked the ending. I mean, I spent so much time working on it to make it all happy and coherent but just vague enough to allow imagnation to have some room to work among the readers. Well, I went back to read the ending and came to a decision. _**I AM AN IDIOT!**_ Right, so apparently I missed like four pages of the last chapter that were supposed to be uploaded with it. Reading it over, I realize that if you thought the previous chapter was the ending...it doesn't make much sense at all. I went back to my story, and sure enough, there at the very end, were four little pages all cute and innocent just waiting to be uploaded. Idiot, idiot, idiot. (Bangs head on counter). So I apologize profusely...and here is the rest of Chapter 29...now renamed, Chapter 30. _**SORRY!**_

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling. The chapter title is from a David Bowie song. Go Bowie!_****_

* * *

**Dancing Life**

**Chapter 30: Let's Dance  
**

* * *

The Great Hall was silent as Skye strode up from the "front row" to the middle of the "stage". Clearing her throat, she waited for silence to run through the Hall.

She allowed herself a quick, tight smile. "I would like to thank all of you for coming to witness our performance tonight. Our last dance tonight will be The Dance of Life, performed by Draco Malfoy and Ginevra Weasley."

Without further ado, she swept from the stage and the lights in the hall dimmed as she waved her wand. The entire hall, with its accumulated students, parents, and teachers, went silent in expectation.

A soft golden light lit up the stage and a single figure swung gracefully onto the stage in a pattern of simple, yet elegant steps. Everyone who knew of him had anticipated Draco Malfoy to be a skilled and graceful dancer. It was a given.

However, everyone was astonished, even the Weasleys, when Ginny Weasley twirled fantastically out onto the stage next to her partner. It seemed more than grace and ease…in fact, from those two points, she wasn't anything extraordinary. But the vivacity…the pure energy put into every single movement was unbelievable.

Draco seemed to be similarly taken aback by the way Ginny was throwing herself into her steps. For a moment his timing was off and his movements uncertain. But then Ginny moved into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck in the move the dance called for. So quickly the audience couldn't see, she pressed her lips to his neck and whispered in his ear 'I love you'.

After that, no one knew where Draco ended and Ginny began. Their movements had been synchronized and in tune in their earlier practices. Now they moved perfectly as one, no slight defect or tiny misstep in their entire performance.

The audience was completely spell-bound; captivated. Fred and George, who had looked murderous when Ginny wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, now watched on, for once in their lives absoltuely silent and attentive to what they were seeing. Mrs. Weasley had glowered at the blonde boy when he had walked on stage...however, the second he began to swing Ginny around in a complex swing bit, she melted at the smiles they had on their faces...they were solely for each other. To them, the hall was empty. Even Mr. Weasley wiped his glasses disbelievingly and stared in shock at the looks on the faces of the two young people on stage.

Ron and Hermione were absolutely speechless, and Hermione turned to Ron at one point with an awe-struck grin on her face. Ron reciprocated it perfectly and they went back to watching, fingers entwining with each other.

By the time they were finally finished, Draco sweeping Ginny up swiftly in his arms, the entire Hall broke out with wild applause. Ginny could vaguely see the twins jumping up on their chairs and stomping around like mad dragons, cheering their baby sister on.

Ginny was grinning, her breath coming in pants, as Draco set her down. She turned to Draco, who was looking similarly out of breath and exhilarated. "You did great." She said, wiping a stray strand of hair from her damp forehead. Draco slid arms around her waist, pulling her gently against him. "We did great." He corrected softly.

Ginny pulled away a little, and he released her immediately, thinking she didn't want her parents to see them holding each other, especially after that incident with the Howler. However, Ginny merely wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her lips against his.

Draco was so surprised he nearly let her go. But her firm, sure, hold on him and the raise in the volume level of the Hall (including a few wolf whistles and catcalls Draco was sure came from her twins brothers) was enough to persuade him to pull her into a deeper kiss.

Ginny finally broke away, flushed and breathing irregularly. She glanced over at her family. Her mother was still clapping, tears of pride streaming down her face…her father had an arm wrapped around Mrs. Weasley's waist, and was looking slightly uncertain, though was also applauding soundly…the twins were miming kissing motions and making lewd gestures at the two on stage…Molly hit them firmly over the head with her handbag…Ron was grinning satisfactorily, holding Hermione's hand subtly…Harry had his arms around his Ravenclaw girlfriend; both were grinning madly…Skye was pulling Janet out of the Hall…most likely to do some serious snogging.

Ginny turned to Draco, beaming madly. He was grinning back at her just as widely. "We did it." He said, giving her shoulders a light squeeze. She stared up at him…saw something she agreed with in his silvery eyes…something long…something that meant forever…it was frightening in its intensity, but comforting in its sincerity…she smiled, taking in the full meaning of his words and what they meant and would mean.

She felt a tear slip from her eye as she leaned in to kiss him again.

"Yes we did."


End file.
